Fix You
by Reverie Wilde
Summary: Post Hogwarts. Harry has lost most of his memory. Draco finds himself in a unique position to help. What will happen to the pair when a chance to start over presents itself? And what will happen when Harry gets his memory back? HP/DM slash rated M
1. you lose something you can't replace

**Hi All! I'm back! This is the latest Drarry story I've been working on. It's called Fix You, based on the song by Coldplay. I don't think I'd call it a song fic, though. Each chapter takes its title from a line or partial line from the song. The gist of the story is that Harry loses his memory. Guess who helps him try to recover it? Well, it wouldn't be a Drarry without Draco.**

**I'm compelled to say that I don't own these characters or the magical places mentioned in the story. JK Rowling gets all the credit there. **

**This is not epilogue compliant. I hope it's better :) As in my last story, I've included subtitles to help keep track of time in the story. If you're reading this, you probably had me or something I wrote on alert, so I thank you!**

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〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day One, Sunday

Harry walked, more like staggered, down the alley way. His head felt as though it had melted and reformed. One by one, his senses came back to him in varying degrees, until finally, he could see and hear and smell all that Diagon Alley had to offer.

People smiled and nodded at him as they passed. He attempted to do the same in return. In his disoriented state, however, he couldn't be certain he was forming the correct expression. He stopped trying and turned a corner, which brought him into a darker alley. He noted that it was not only less light, it seemed sinister. The people in this place dressed in darker clothing and they did not meet one another's gazes.

A large man bumped into Harry, nearly knocking him over.

"Watch it," the man snapped and kept on walking.

Harry ducked into the nearest shop in order to gather himself together. What he saw inside only further confused him. Shelves upon shelves of glass bottles filled with liquid or powder or what appeared to be herbs lined the entire interior of the shop. He leaned closer to read some of the labels. He recognized a few- herbs such as rosemary and fennel. Others were completely foreign to him.

Upon hearing the small bell over the door, Draco Malfoy made his way to the front of his shop to greet a potential customer. He stopped short and sighed, annoyed, that once again, Harry Potter was there to harass him.

"Everything here is legitimate," Draco said. "I have paperwork for all of it. Including the dragon's blood."

"What?" Harry glanced up at him. "Are you talking to me?"

"Do you see anyone else?" Draco asked sarcastically. His assistant, Mirabelle was currently in the back room taking inventory, as was customary on a Sunday afternoon.

"Oh," Harry replied. "What is all this stuff?" He picked up a small jar. "Are these real? What kind of eyeballs are they?" Harry scrunched up his face in disgust.

Draco plucked the jar from his hand. "Newt, of course. What's the matter with you Potter?"

"You know me?" Harry asked, hopeful for the first time since he found himself in the busy alley way just fifteen minutes earlier.

"Well, obviously I know you. What are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything."

"Why are you even here?" Draco demanded.

"I can't remember," Harry answered quietly, knowing he was in a most vulnerable position. There was little he could do but trust the one person who had spoken to him and clearly knew who he was.

Draco narrowed his eyes, unsure if Harry was just toying with him. But the former Gryffindor actually looked . . . frightened.

"You mean you forgot why you came in here?"

"No. I came in here because the alley was crowded with bizarre people. This happened to be the closest shop." He paused and bit his lip. "I don't know who I am," Harry confessed. "I mean, I know my name. And I remember some things, like my family. But nothing past childhood."

Draco laughed but stopped quickly when Harry didn't join in. "You're serious?"

Harry nodded. "Obviously, you know who I am. Can you help me?"

"So, you're saying someone _Obliviated_ you?" Draco rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And you're asking _me_ for help?"

"_Obliviated_? I don't know what that means, but can you?" Harry gave a pleading look.

Draco carefully considered the situation. In order to exploit the gift standing before him, he needed to examine it from all sides. As he saw it, his options included sending Potter on his way to fend for himself, owling Weasley and Granger to come fetch him, or attempting to restore Potter's memory himself. The first two options would cause the least headache. But they also presented no gain. The third choice, however, would leave Potter indebted to him, at least in some part. Perhaps Potter would stop pestering Draco with the petty warrants and searches that often drove away customers.

"All right," Draco smiled mischievously. "I'll help you."

"You will? Thank you," Harry smiled back, blissfully unaware at whose mercy he had just placed himself. He sighed with relief.

Draco pulled out his wand. "First let me see what the damage is."

"What the Hell are you doing?" Harry stepped back.

"I'm not going to curse you. I may not be a Healer, but I'm proficient enough to make a cursory diagnosis."

"With a stick?" Harry appeared utterly confused. He glanced at the jar Draco had taken form him earlier. "Oh my God, you're some kind of kook. Do you practice some sort of Satan worship? Do you fancy yourself a warlock?" He was beginning to rethink getting involved with the man in front of him.

"Nobody uses that term anymore," Draco snickered. "Except Muggles." Then it occurred to Draco. "Merlin, you don't remember magic either, do you?"

"Magic. You _are_ a kook. Or are you just making fun of me? Either way, I think I'll take my chances out there." Harry started for the door.

"Wait," Draco urged. "I'm not making fun of you. I can prove it."

Without waiting for a response, Draco waved his wand at the jar of eyes. "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

The jar raised and floated to the opposite counter.

"Whoa! How did you do that?" Harry exclaimed.

"Magic," Draco rolled his eyes.

Harry went to the jar to examine it. He was certain he would find a string attached. While Harry was holding it, Draco made the jar disappear.

"Holy shit!"

Draco couldn't help but laugh at Harry's Muggle-like reactions. He really had lost much of his memory.

"Well, Potter, your memory loss is more extensive than I first thought. It may take some time to restore it."

Draco glanced at the clock. "It's closing time. You can stay here while we work on your memory."

"Here in the shop?"

"No. I have a flat upstairs. Excuse me for a moment."

Going into the back room, Draco informed Mirabelle that he was closing up for the evening and that she was free to leave as well. Draco ushered Harry up the staircase before Mirabelle could see him. If she did, she would have a thousand questions that Draco did not want to answer. At the top of the stairs was a lavishly appointed studio flat.

Wide-eyed, Harry looked around. He'd never seen many of the unusual items stored on shelves and hanging on the walls.

"You have a pet owl? How strange. And a broom with foot rests?" Harry cocked his head to read the broom side. Next, he picked up a photograph. "How is this moving?"

"Potter, you seem to have a million questions. Basically, the answer to all of them is magic." Harry's childlike wonder was beginning to wear thin.

"Does anyone know you can do magic?" Harry asked.

"Yes, of course. We're in _Wizarding_ London. Everyone here can do magic," Draco told him, less patiently than he meant to. "Even you."

"No. I can't do magic," Harry replied.

Draco smirked. "Reach into your trouser pocket," he directed Harry.

He put his hand in his front pocket. "Nothing's there."

"No, your wand pocket."

"My what?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Draco snorted. He reached over and felt the side of Harry's trousers for the hidden pocket and fished out his wand.

Surprised, Harry gasped, "I have one of those too?"

Draco handed Harry the wand. "Try it. Do something simple."

Harry just stood there. "Uh, abracadabra?"

Laughing, Draco said, "Oh, right. You don't remember any spells. Okay. Hold out your wand toward that parchment and say _Wingardium Leviosa_. Give it a bit of a swish."

"That's what you did downstairs in the shop, right?"

"Yes. Well, you seem to have a decent memory now," Draco joked.

Harry took a deep breath and, feeling rather silly, did as Draco directed him. The parchment stubbornly lay where it was. He gave it another try, concentrating a bit more and swishing just a bit bigger. Still nothing.

Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco.

"Having fun at my expense? Do you have a hidden camera recording this? I can't believe I actually fell for your parlor tricks."

Harry slammed his wand on the small table beside a chair and turned to leave.

"Wait, Potter. It's not parlor tricks. I truly thought it would work. Whatever happened to your memory is clearly affecting your magical abilities as well."

"Give it a rest. I know magic isn't real."

"Ask me to do anything. Something I couldn't have planned ahead," Draco suggested.

Harry looked around the flat, trying to think up something he thought Draco could never accomplish.

"Um, turn that shirt into an animal. Can you do that?" Harry challenged.

"What sort of animal?"

"A, a miniature zebra," Harry said triumphantly, figuring he had Draco by the bollocks.

Smirking, Draco raised his wand and muttered an incantation. Before Harry's eyes, the shirt transfigured into a two foot tall zebra. All Harry could do was stand with his mouth agape.

Draco returned the shirt to its natural state. "So, do you believe me now?"

Swallowing hard, Harry nodded.

"Okay then. Do you want me to try and help you, or do you still want to take your chances out there?" Draco motioned to the window. "Personally, I would be worried about whoever did this finding you and finishing the job. Or worse."

"I don't really like the idea of going back into that alley," Harry admitted.

"It may take a while," Draco warned. "It was no simple _Obliviate_ that took your memories. You'd have to stay here for . . . I really have no idea how long it will take."

"I don't want to be an imposition. You seem . . . somewhat irritated with me most of the time."

"You're not imposing. I'm offering," Draco corrected. Though, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was offering. "And I find most people irritating."

"Thank you," Harry said quietly. He suddenly sat up. "You knew my name. Do we know each other?"

Draco contemplated exactly how much information to give Harry. He obviously couldn't tell him the true nature of their relationship. But Harry had seemed to figure out that they weren't precisely friends.

"We know each other. Not well, though. You come into my shop on a regular basis."

"I did? I mean, I do? But we're not friends?" Harry frowned. "Then why do I come here?"

"Um, well, you're an Auror."

"What's that?"

"Sort of wizard police."

The wheels in Harry's head began to spin, recalling what Draco said when Harry first entered the shop. He had been defensive.

"So, I come in to check up on you? To make sure you're not doing something wrong?"

"Yes," Draco answered.

"And do I usually find something wrong?" Harry asked, unsure that if Draco was doing something shady, whether he would tell him the truth about it.

"No. I run a completely legitimate business," Draco answered honestly.

"Oh. Then is it my job to check up on all the businesses around here?"

Draco hesitated. "No. You only come into mine."

Harry thought for a moment. It sounded as though Harry hadn't any cause to be suspicious, yet frequented the shop to give Draco a hard time.

"A bit of a prat, am I?" Harry finally commented.

Draco smiled. "Something like that. Not that I've always been innocent. My father dealt in dark magic, so it's not unreasonable to suspect I may, as well." He quickly added. "But I don't."

Nodding and scratching his head. "I see. Then why would you help me?"

"To be perfectly honest, I'm not certain. Perhaps you'll be grateful enough to stop harassing me."

"If you help me, I promise I'll stop."

Draco wasn't at all certain what he was bargaining for. But if it would get Potter off his back, it may be worth it.

"It's a deal," he said and held out his hand to Harry.

Taking hold of the hand, Harry shook it. "Deal. By the way. You haven't told me your name."

"Draco. Draco Malfoy."

"Is that a real name?" Harry laughed and Draco scowled. "Oh, sorry," Harry apologized. "I've never heard of that name before. I don't think. I guess I don't remember." He frowned.

"Then for all you know, it might be your favorite name," Draco said smugly.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

The first night in Draco's flat was awkward to say the least. Harry had a thousand questions, most of them relating to objects in Draco's place that he found so extraordinary, yet Draco found mundane. He was particularly fascinated by the food on a shelf that was somehow kept cold without refrigeration. Harry was equally amazed that merely waving a wand over it made it piping hot.

"I'll conjure a few personal items for tonight, but we'll have to go shopping tomorrow."

"But I don't have any money."

"Oh, you have money, of that I'm certain. But I have plenty of my own, so it's not a problem."

Harry had an expression of worrying on his face. If Draco interpreted it correctly, Harry wasn't comfortable with Draco paying his way. He chuckled to himself. Even in his forgetful state, Harry was still honorable.

"If it makes you feel better, you can pay me back when you've recovered."

Harry happily agreed, and smiled at Draco. The latter found it disconcerting to see the Auror without his usual scowl. He was having a difficult time reconciling the friendly manner in which Harry was treating him, with the face of the man who tormented him from time to time.

Then it occurred to Draco that others would see the same thing.

"If you're going to stay here, you should remain hidden. You won't be able to leave the flat."

"What? Why not?"

Thinking quickly, Draco answered, "Someone undesirable might recognize you and give your whereabouts to the person that did this to you."

"Oh, but I was hoping you could show me more about all those strange things you have downstairs. What am I going to do all day while you run the shop?"

Draco cocked his head in thought. Perhaps he could put Harry to good use, as sort of compensation for helping him. But what would his customers think about Harry Potter working in a potions shop in Knockturn Alley? His customers were usually particularly discreet. However, Draco didn't trust a one of them.

"I know. I'll cast a glamour on you. That way, you can come downstairs and help Mirabelle with stocking inventory, and possibly running the register."

"What's a glamour?" Harry inevitably asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. It was getting tedious having to explain everything. He tried his best to be patient, remembering that he had a plan, and things would be better for him in the long run.

"It's a spell to conceal your identity. I can make you appear different so no one will recognize you. You should use a different name as well."

"You're going to take away the one thing I remember about myself?" Harry cried. "Can't I at least keep my first name?"

Harry wasn't exactly a popular name, but neither was it unusual.

"All, right. I suppose if you look completely different and use a new last name, no one will suspect you are who you are," Draco conceded. "Pick something simple. Smith?"

Harry wrinkled his nose.

"No? How about Jones?"

"Hmm," Harry looked around the flat. He spotted a red book on the shelf that stood out among the black bound volumes. "Red. Redmond?" He looked to Draco. "How about that?"

Draco stroked his chin thoughtfully and nodded. "It's ambiguous enough to pass for a first or last name. It'll do. Harry Redmond it is."

Harry smiled proudly.

"Now for a new face to go with your new name," Draco raised his wand and muttered an incantation.

Harry's features shimmered briefly, then morphed into someone unrecognizable. His hair faded to a dull brown, his eyebrows and lashes to match. A light sprinkling of freckles appeared across his nose and cheeks. And his eyes changed from brilliant green to dark chocolate brown. The landscape of his face changed as well. Harry's nose shortened to a bit of a pug and his jawline softened, making him look somewhat like Pansy Parkinson, which Draco found amusing.

"There. What do you think?" Draco asked, motioning toward a mirror on the wall.

Harry's eyes grew large as he looked at his reflection.

"That's me? Is that what everyone will see?" Harry was beginning to feel as thought this was all more trouble than it was worth. "I don't know if I can get used to that face."

"I can make it so only you and I will see your true self if you'd like," Draco offered.

"Yes. I'd like that better."

With another wave of his wand and another incantation, Harry's face was his own again. He gazed into the mirror and smiled.

"Not that I think I'm such a looker," Harry explained. "It's just that I'm used to this one. And I'm afraid I'd jump in surprise every time I saw my reflection." He leaned closer to the mirror. "Although, the reflection is a bit different than I remembered. I look like a man. How old am I?"

"Twenty-four, same as me."

"And you're certain everyone will see that other face instead of this one?"

"Yes," Draco replied. "I deliberately gave you a nondescript, unmemorable glamour so you'll be less noticeable."

Harry smirked. "Do you think I'm noticeable the way I am?"

"Don't be so full of yourself, Potter. It's unbecoming," Draco said, annoyed that Harry seemed to try to get his goat. Abruptly, he said, "It's time for bed. I do have a shop to run in the morning."

Harry looked around. Although the flat was rather spacious for one room, there was only one bed.

"Uh, Drake? Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"You take the bed. I'll take chair. And it's Draco," he answered, emphasizing the O.

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly. You'll never fit in that-"

Harry's words were cut off by the sudden transfiguration of the chair into a day bed, just long enough to accommodate Draco's height.

"Whoa!" Harry exclaimed. "I really hope I can do things like that when I remember how to use magic. Are you _sure_ I can do magic?"

"You had a wand, didn't you?" Draco responded. "Trust me. You're quite powerful. Now, get some sleep Mr. Redmond. Tomorrow we begin working on getting all that back. The loo is behind that door. You'll find a toothbrush and flannel."

When Harry came back out, Draco went in to prepare for bed. Harry awkwardly pulled the sheet out and slipped into Draco's bed. Though he had looked about the room earlier, Harry examined it more closely now that he was alone. Everything had a place and was neatly arranged. More than neatly, things were meticulously arranged. Harry worried that he would be the proverbial bull in a china shop, as he was certain he was not as neat and tidy as Draco.

Draco returned and got into the newly transfigured day bed. He glanced at Harry and gave an uneasy half-smile.

"Good night," he said. "Nox." He heard Harry gasp and chuckled. "It's just a spell to turn off the light."

"Sorry," Harry laughed. "Good night."

Harry lay his head on the pillow, feeling lucky that Draco was such a kind and accommodating stranger. He could have easily fallen into the clutches of someone wishing to do him harm. Though he thought he would never fall asleep for the wild thoughts going through his head, the fluffy pillow and satiny bed covers soon lured him into dream land.

However, Draco lay on his impromptu bed staring up at the dark ceiling. He sure hoped he knew what he was doing. When Harry regained his memory, he would either be grateful for the help and finally treat Draco with some respect, or he would curse Draco for taking advantage, and possibly make his life a living Hell. It was a risk. He was banking on the rewards being worth it. A day or two of putting up with Potter in his life in exchange for getting him out of it for good, seemed a fair trade indeed.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

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**Not sure how often I'll post, but I'll try not to take too long. Let me know what you think of the premise. I think this is probably the most predictable of my stories so far, but it's going to be more about the building of a relationship, rather than drama and revelations.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. you feel so tired but you can't sleep

***Wow! I can just feel the love! Fanfiction readers are the best! I can't believe how many responses this story has already. Thank you to those who put it on alert and added to favorites, too!**

**So, apparently, I forgot to write the first title in-DUH. I made the correction and hopefully I'll remember from now on. The titles don't go in the same order as the song. And there won't be as many chapters as there are lines in the song.**

**Bookwoman17NerdyMom- definitely sexy times down the road ;)**

**ClaireBouldwin- I know Harry losing his memory isn't very original, but I'm trying to make it a little different. He hasn't lost it completely, just back to right before Hogwarts. It's more about the two of them getting to know each other without prejudice.**

**WitchRavenFox- Your suspicions are correct, but Harry himself may not have realized it.**

**wnb-emma- I hope you do well on your exams! Thanks for reading my stories**

**Vinkula- It won't really be a sad story. I think you'll find that Harry without the weight of the past is actually rather upbeat :)**

**Thanks to dominygringa, DracoMalfoyIsMyLionI'mHisLamb, BloodyRose90, anon, luvsallthingsslash, RosieTheRiddler, cassy1994, lette2001, DrWooty, Lalala Spacing In Panda Land, Princessmelodina and FantasyFiend09. So nice to see so many familiar names!**

**This chapter isn't terribly long, but the next one will be.**

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〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day Two, Monday

"Now remember, your name is Redmond. I'll introduce you to Mirabelle as the squibb son of one of my father's acquaintances. And before you ask, a squibb is a non-magic person born of wizards."

Harry smiled sheepishly. He knew he had been asking a lot of questions and Draco must have found it tedious.

Mirabelle was a pleasant young woman who had been under Draco's tutelage for the past two years. She was especially helpful to Harry in learning the basics of the shop. While Draco talked to the few customers of the morning, Mirabelle walked Harry through the aisles, pointing out the most popular potion ingredients. She taught him how to measure out sneezewort, valerian, and lacewing flies. Some things, such as newt eyes, were sold singly, while others were sold in bunches, like nettles. Harry asked about the dragon's blood, which he saw in a corner on a high shelf.

"Oh, you won't need to worry about that. It's quite expensive so we don't sell much. Plus there are charms around it that only Mr. Malfoy can access."

"I see."

"Well, I think you've got the basics down," Mirabelle said. "You're a quick learner. But it's half-one already. I'm starved. Let's break for lunch," she suggested.

Mirabelle led Harry to the back room where two sandwiches were waiting for them, along side chips and fruit salad.

"Ooh, this is from my favorite cafe. My friend Peter owns it," she told him. "Mr. Malfoy always has lunch brought in for us. He's a very good employer."

She picked up one of the sandwiches and sat down at a small circular table. "Come on then, the other one is for you."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Yes. Sit." She gestured to the chair opposite her.

Reluctantly, Harry took the other plate and sat across from her. As they ate, Harry took the time to really notice her. He had been so busy trying to absorb everything she told him, he hadn't the time to observe her earlier.

Mirabelle had a round, yet not chubby face with an equally round nose. Her blue eyes were not unusually small, but when she smiled or laughed, they almost appeared closed, giving her a slightly Asian impression. Her dirty blonde hair fell around her shoulders in subtle waves. For a moment, he felt a strange sense of familiarity, but it was gone before he could place it.

"How long have you worked for Drake?" he asked.

She looked up from her plate and raised her eyebrows. "Drake?"

"Oh, I meant Draco. It's an odd name, isn't it?"

Mirabelle smirked. "It suits him quite well. But Drake does have a more modern ring to it." Then, remembering Harry's question, answered, "Just over two years. Last month it was two years, actually. He's taught me _so_ much already, but I've still got a way to go before I'm a Potions Master like him."

"How long will it take?" Harry asked.

"Normally, it's a three year training program. Mr. Malfoy is such a good instructor, though, he thinks I'll be ready in less than six more months," she beamed.

"And then what?" Harry questioned.

"And then, I'll be a Potions Master myself. I'll be qualified to make all the potions we make here, on my own. I could open my own shop, if I wanted."

"Oh. Is that what you'll do?"

"Not anytime soon," Mirabelle replied. "There's a big difference between getting a certification and running a business. Actually, I'm hoping to run either this shop someday or the one Mr. Malfoy is planning to buy in Paris."

"He's opening another apothecary in Paris? When? Is he moving there?" Harry's brow furrowed.

Mirabelle put a hand on Harry's arm. "I shouldn't have said anything. It's only in the works right now. You don't have to worry about him whisking off and leaving you behind."

He felt vulnerable at being so attached to Malfoy already. And the panic of thinking he would leave Harry on his own, momentarily left him feeling foolish.

Harry cleared his throat. "Don't you make the potions sold here?" he asked, hoping to deflect attention from himself.

"Only the simpler ones," She replied. "Ones that, really, people could make themselves if they took the time to bother. Too many wizards have taken to the muggle ways of shortcuts. Of course, wizard shortcuts are certainly different from muggle ones, " she laughed. "But you know what I mean. It's just laziness, if you ask me. They want to go out and get it instantly."

"What's wrong with that?" Harry questioned.

Mirabelle shrugged. "I suppose I wouldn't have a job if everyone did all their own potion making."

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Mirabelle turned the conversation a bit more personal, in light of Harry's reaction to the possibility of Draco leaving the country.

"So, are you really a squibb?"

Harry looked up blankly. He hadn't expected her to question the story Draco made up. He wasn't sure he could lie convincingly.

She continued. "It's just that I sense some power from you. You're not like any squibb I've ever met."

"Actually, no, I'm not," Harry confided. "But I am having difficulties. Drake, uh, Draco, is helping me."

"I see," she smiled. "There was no need to make up a story. It's none of my business who Mr. Malfoy entertains in his flat."

Harry's eyes went wide as he understood her meaning.

"No, it's not like that," he blushed. He wondered if it showed through his glamour.

"Don't get me wrong," she smiled. "I'm not judging. But you're different from Mr. Malfoy's usual type."

"Type? You mean, he doesn't usually entertain men?"

"He definitely entertains men. Or should I say, more likely, they entertain him." She winked. "You seem more . . . um, less worldly." She struggled to find a word to describe Harry that he would not find insulting. For, as she saw him, he was rather plain compared to the striking men that normally accompanied Draco.

"So he prefers to keep company more sophisticated than me," Harry clarified, unsure why he should be insulted, considering he hadn't thought of Draco in romantic terms in the least.

"No offense. I didn't mean it as an insult. I like you. You have substance. I don't feel like you're looking down your nose at me, like most of the boys that Mr. Malfoy has dated."

Harry laughed. "We are not dating. He really is just helping me get back on my feet. I'm sure I'll only be here for a few days."

"Shame," Mirabelle said. "Well, he must have seen something special in you. Mr. Malfoy may be a great employer, but he doesn't do things out of the goodness of his heart."

As Harry finished the last of his sandwich, he thought about what Mirabelle said. He wondered if Malfoy had ulterior motives. And if they included adding Harry to his list of paramours.

"We should get back to work," Mirabelle said, standing up and gathering her trash. "One thing Mr. Malfoy doesn't not tolerate is slacking. There is still so much for me to show you."

Harry wondered, as he cleaned up, if Draco was so particular, why he was going out of his way to allow Harry into his life. Surely, Harry would only add chaos to order.

The remainder of the day dragged on for Harry. Mirabelle left him to tidy up and replenish the jars near the front of the shop. He made frequent trips to the back room for ingredients, but the work was fairly mindless, allowing Harry's thoughts to wander. Occasionally, he paused to observe Draco. His host moved about the store with elegance and confidence. He was most charming when dealing with the clientele. Especially those that appeared to be wealthy. Harry could see why the shop was so successful despite being situated down a dark and seedy alleyway.

By the time Draco turned the sign on the front door to read 'closed', Harry was exhausted. He wasn't certain what an Auror did, but he suspected it must have been a lot of paperwork done at a desk. Obviously, he was not used to walking back and forth and climbing ladders all afternoon.

Up in Draco's flat, Harry flopped on the bed, while Draco warmed up a light supper for them. Harry had nearly fallen asleep when Draco called him to the table.

Harry took the seat across from Draco at the table just the right size for two.

Grinning as he ate, Draco asked, "Did Mirabelle work you too hard this afternoon?"

"Apparently, I'm not used to this much physical labor," Harry laughed.

"She'll whip you into shape in no time. But be careful there, that could have a double meaning," Draco winked. "She's a bit of a flirt."

Harry blushed at Draco's innuendo. And this time, it showed, as Draco could see through the glamour. "I don't think I'll have to worry about that. She has the impression . . ." Harry decided not to bring up the conversation he and Mirabelle had during lunch. "Well, suffice it to say, I think she finds me rather unrefined."

"Did she say that?" Draco asked, eyebrow quirked.

"Not in so many words . . ."

"More likely she meant unpretentious. Most of our clientele are quite the opposite."

Harry shrugged.

"You seemed to have picked up everything quickly today. Did any of it jog your memory?" Draco continued.

"No. Is that what you were hoping for?"

"Hope is a strong word. I thought perhaps it was a possibility that working with the potion ingredients would trigger something. After supper, I'd like to try a memory charm on you, if you're up to it."

"All right," Harry answered. "Mirabelle knows I'm not a . . . a squibb, did you call it?"

"Yes, squibb."

"She asked me outright. I didn't know what to say, so I confessed that I'm not. But I told her I was having problems."

"She's a perceptive girl. One of the reasons I chose to mentor her over others. I could have hired a more experienced potion maker, however, her instincts are better than most. She's good with the customers, as well. Especially the male customers that want little to do with me," Draco commented.

"She can't be as good as you. You were so . . . charming with some of them."

Draco snickered. "The job requires a bit of finesse when it comes to the more discerning patrons."

"You mean you have to kiss a lot of arse."

"To put it mildly," Draco said. "I've become exceedingly adept at feigning interest in peoples' business, no matter how disinterested I truly am. They tend to spend more in my shop if they feel I'm impressed by them," he smirked.

"Is that what you have to do with me?" Harry blurted out before he could sensor himself.

Raising an eyebrow, the way he did when he was amused, Draco replied genuinely, "Actually, Potter, er, Harry, your lack of conceit and arrogance is rather refreshingly easy to deal with. Despite your endless questioning."

Harry gave Draco a smile so sincere, he subconsciously returned it. When he realized what he was doing, Draco cleared his throat and began to clear the table.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

After the supper dishes had been cleared and Harry finished marveling at the fact that the dishes had magically done themselves, Draco prepared to perform a memory charm on Harry.

"Are you ready?" Draco asked. "It may feel a bit strange because you're not use to feeling magic. Anytime you want me to stop, just say so."

"All right," Harry answered nervously. He trusted Draco, but he was still apprehensive.

Muttering a simple spell, Draco waved his wand slowly and gently, over Harry's head. He could feel the tension, almost like magnets repelling one another. Draco let the flow of magic grow, just a bit, feeling that he was making progress.

All at once, Harry cried out.

"What's wrong? Does it hurt?" Draco asked. "It shouldn't hurt."

"Stop! Please, stop." Harry held his hands to either side of his head as Draco ceased the flow of magic and lowered his wand.

Harry continued to whimper and rub his temples. "It still hurts. Make it stop." He grabbed tightly onto Draco's shirt, his knuckles white.

"I have stopped," Draco told him. "I'm sorry."

A tear fell from the corner of Harry's squeezed shut eye.

Instinctively, Draco wrapped his arms around Harry as he would a child, if he liked children.

"Sh, sh, sh. I'm sorry," he whispered. "I won't do that again."

Harry relaxed finally at Draco's touch, and the pain subsided. Draco released him, but Harry still clutched at his host's clothing, keeping him closer than Draco would have preferred. He waited uncomfortably for Harry to let go, then sat down beside him.

"That shouldn't have happened. I was only performing a simple charm. Whatever was done to you must have been designed to prevent someone from accessing your memories through conventional methods."

"Why did it hurt so much?"

"I'm not certain," Draco frowned. "Maybe your memories are buried too deeply, or maybe they're gone altogether, and that's why I could reach them."

"You mean they're just gone, and there's nothing I can do?"

"Now let's not jump to conclusions. It's only a theory. And I've only tried one method. And I _won't_ try anymore spells until I do some research on the subject," Draco assured him.

Harry yawned widely and rolled his shoulders. "I'm tired. I think I'll go to sleep."

Draco glanced at the clock. It wasn't even half-nine.

Noticing, Harry said, "It's all right. You won't keep me up. Do whatever you would normally do."

Harry went off to the bath to ready himself for bed. He only had the energy to brush his teeth and pull on a pair of pajama bottoms, leaving on the t-shirt he had already been wearing.

When he came out and crawled into the bed, Draco had already transfigured the chair and was comfortably stretched out with a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

"Would you like a glass?" he offered Harry.

"No thanks." Harry took off his glasses and placed them on the side table. He was nearly asleep before his head sunk into the luxurious pillow.

Draco tried to read, but his gaze kept traveling to his temporary houseguest. He wondered what his friends would say if they knew he had Harry Potter in his bed. Of course, not the way one usually meant by that phrase. But still, it was closer than he ever thought it would be. Draco supposed the only way for Potter to be there at all was if he didn't realize who either of them were. He frowned as he reflected on the memory charm he used earlier. Draco didn't think it would be that simple to restore his former nemesis' memory, but it shouldn't have caused him so much pain.

Harry made a snorting noise in his sleep and shifted position, catching Draco's attention once again. He watched as Harry slept, freely, without fear of getting caught. Harry's dark, disheveled hair fell about the pillow while his matching eyelashes stood stark against his creamy complexion. It was easy to overlook small details like his lashes or eye color when Harry wore his glasses. They had been a distinguishing feature since boyhood. But Draco had been able, on occasion, to get a good look past those glasses while Harry was a guest in the flat, and truly see Harry's eyes. And they were about the loveliest shade of green Draco had ever seen.

Thoughts such as those kept Draco's mind active, despite the wine he drank earlier in the evening. He glanced over at the clock for what seemed like the millionth time. Two-twelve.

Draco threw his head back against his pillow in frustration. He was close to resorting to a sleeping potion. The vision of Harry, in pain, and clinging to him crept into his mind. That, coupled with the fact that Draco couldn't figure out _why_ Harry had been in so much pain, prevented him from falling asleep naturally.

Finally, reluctantly, Draco quietly got out of bed and swallowed the appropriate potion. Being a Potions Master was convenient, he thought to himself. No matter what ailed him, or any guests he may have, Draco always had the appropriate potion on hand.

Within minutes, comfortably ensconced in his makeshift bed, Draco at last fell asleep. Thanks to the potions affects, he wouldn't remember the dreams he had in the morning. Dreams that starred a certain green-eyed houseguest.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

* * *

**Thanks for reading! As a reward, here are a few sneak peeks into the next chapter!**

_ "Good morning," Draco mumbled. "What time is it?" he groaned._

_ "Half-eight," Harry said. "I wasn't sure if I should wake you up or if Mirabelle would open the shop." _

_ "It's Wednesday. We're closed Wednesdays," Draco informed him._

_ Harry grinned. "So we have the day free?"_

_ Yawning, Draco answered, "I have some errands to run. I suppose you could come with me. I'll show you around Diagon Alley. Perhaps something there will jog your memory."_

* * *

_"Oh, Harry, I really am sorry for laughing." Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm. "My house was notorious for being rather . . . unscrupulous and conniving. Yours was known for courage and bravery. The thought of __**me**__ being a Gryffindor . . ." Draco began laughing again._

_ Though he wanted to be angry with Draco for laughing at him, Harry couldn't help smiling. It was the first time he saw genuine heartfelt laughter from the normally stoic man. His elusive smile was dazzling._

* * *

"_I know you know more than you're telling me. I can see it in your eyes. Maybe you think I can't handle it, and maybe I can't. Yet. But I hope you'll be able to be completely honest with me some day." Harry gave him a sympathetic smile._

_ "You're right. I do know more about you than I've told you. But what I know is from my own perspective. I'm sure you have a completely different point of view." _

_ Harry nodded. "That's probably true."_

_ "I don't want to muddle your mind any more that it is already by giving you inaccurate information, and I'm doing my best not to influence you too much. But I'll answer any questions you have," Draco said with reluctance._


	3. just what you're worth ch 3

**Thanks for another great response!**

**BloodyRose90- You caught on quickly!**

**FantasyFiend09 and WitchRavenFox- thanks for the interest in Mirabelle. She's not in it a lot, but she's definitely important**

**QuirkyKitty93- I'm glad you gave it a try. It's extremely hard to come up with new situations to put these lovely boys in. Everything has been done!**

**Thanks to cassy1994, DracoMalfoyIsMyLionI'mHisLamb, luvsallthingsslash, Vinkula, Duyon Blessed, da-blk-saiyangirl, and atlantis51 for reading and reviewing.**

**I apologize for having my anonymous review acceptance turned off for a while. I hope it didn't put anyone out. I was actually trying to force someone who reviewed a different story to sign in so I could respond. I have no problem with negative reviews, especially when they are valid. But I do like the opportunity to address the issue and explain myself. Or sometimes to thank the person for pointing out a problem that I need to fix. So, please sign in when you review :)**

* * *

Day Three, Tuesday

Tuesday afternoon, after the shop closed, Draco approached Harry with another idea-a potion.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Draco had brewed an especially strong memory enhancing potion during the day. Deciding it was best to take on a full stomach, Draco prepared supper while he and Harry made small talk. As usual, the brunet had many questions, some of which Draco could answer fully and honestly, and some he dared not. Though they were enjoying the conversation, Draco was anxious to try out the potion.

"Is it going to hurt?" Harry felt like a pansy for asking. But after the pain he experienced with the charm, he was more than a little reluctant to try something else.

"No," Draco answered, then paused. "Well, it _shouldn't_, at any rate. I understand if you're wary."

Shaking his head, Harry replied, "No, I'll give it a try if you think it'll be all right. I trust you."

Draco felt a pang in his chest. Though he did not intend to hurt Harry, the hero of the wizarding world's trust was misplaced. Draco was in a position to completely manipulate Harry, and he wasn't even certain he could trust himself not to abuse it.

"I'll warn you, though, it tastes dreadful."

Harry took the small vial and upended it into his mouth, swallowing in one gulp. He gagged but kept it down.

Watching Harry closely, Draco asked him how he felt.

"Are you dizzy at all?"

Furrowing his brows, Harry said, "I don't feel any different."

"Are you remembering anything?"

"I don't think so. I can only remember things since I met you, and being a boy in my Aunt and Uncle's house."

"Could you remember that before?"

"Yes." He cocked his head to the side. "Maybe the memories are a bit clearer, more detailed. Unfortunately. My Aunt and Uncle are awful people sometimes."

"Why did you live with them?" Draco tested Harry.

Frowning, Harry told him, "My parents died in a car crash when I was a baby."

"They weren't killed by Voldemort?"

Suddenly, Harry got a blank look on his face. He stared, not seeing Draco so much as looking through him.

"Potter?" The blond waved his hand in front of Harry's face.

Slowly, the emerald eyes rolled back and Harry slid off the chair, passing out cold on the floor.

When he came to, Draco was sitting beside him as he lay on the bed. The grave expression on the Potion Master's face unnerved Harry.

"What happened?"

"You fainted. Are you all right?"

"A bit dizzy still, but I think I'm fine otherwise. I felt like I was on the verge of remembering something-something important. Then everything went black. I guess the potion didn't work either."

Harry began to sit up, but Draco's hand on his chest kept him down.

"Where do you think you're going, Potter?" Draco snickered.

"I thought maybe I'd make some tea."

"You stay," Draco ordered. "I'll make the tea. Besides, I'm a lot faster than you," he smirked.

He was right. In less time than it would have taken Harry to boil the water, Draco had a pot of piping hot tea on the counter, ready to pour.

Harry sighed. "I wish I could do that."

"You will," Draco assured him.

After finishing only half a cup, Harry decided he was too tired to stay awake any longer. He fell asleep almost instantly upon removing his glasses and pulling up the sheet around himself.

As Draco tidied up the kitchen, he periodically glanced at Harry. Not the seemingly invincible hero, but the new Harry. The innocent and naive Harry, who trusts Draco Malfoy, of all people. At times, Draco wished he could forget the horrors of the war, the murders he witnessed, the smell of death, the Dark Lord's touch on his skin.

Draco shivered at the thought. Once again, he had difficulty falling asleep, so he poured a glass of wine and settled in with his book until he was distracted enough from the unpleasant memories of the past.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day Four, Wednesday

The next morning, Harry awoke with a yawn and a stretch. He opened up his eyes to find Draco still asleep in the transfigured chair with an open book resting on his chest and his mouth wide. It was the first time Harry had seen him completely relaxed and unguarded. He watched the book rise and fall slowly and rhythmically. Draco's hair was uncharacteristically unkempt, plastered down over an eye on one side, while sticking up straight on the other. Harry smiled to himself, thinking it was nice to know the man wasn't so perfect as he seemed.

A heavy breath signaled that Draco beginning to wake, and the book slipped from his body onto the floor as he shifted slightly. The loud slap of the binding hitting the hardwood woke Draco with a start.

Blinking, Draco looked around, disoriented at first. It had only been a few days since Harry wandered into his shop and he still hadn't gotten used to sleeping on the chair.

"Morning," Harry smiled.

"Good morning," Draco mumbled. "What time is it?" he groaned.

"Half-eight," Harry said. "I wasn't sure if I should wake you up or if Mirabelle would open the shop."

"It's Wednesday. We're closed Wednesdays," Draco informed him, then yawned.

Harry grinned. "So we have the day free?"

Draco answered, "I have some errands to run. I suppose you could come with me. I'll show you around Diagon Alley. Perhaps something there will jog your memory."

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

They both readied themselves for the day and prepared to go. Draco decided to treat Harry to breakfast at one of the cafes. While they ate scones with cream and jam, and drank tea, Draco pointed out some of the nearby storefronts. Harry was fascinated by the menagerie. He'd never seen a store that sold owls. Or rather, didn't remember seeing one.

"I have a few potions to deliver," Draco said. "But after that, we could go into any of the shops you'd like."

Harry looked around. "I'd like to look in that bookstore."

"All right," Draco smirked. "I also want to take you to Twilfit & Tattings. It's a clothing shop. If you're going to be representing me in my business, I want you to look the part."

Harry looked down at himself. He was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing for the past couple of days-_Scourgified_ clean by Draco, of course-a fitted blue t-shirt and jeans.

"What's wrong with what I've got on? I don't look okay?"

Draco thought Harry looked fine. In fact, perfectly fine. But he wasn't about to tell Harry that.

"What you're wearing is fine for a day off. In the shop, I'd like you to wear robes. Like what I wear."

"Oh. All right." Though Harry thought he'd feel silly wearing them.

"Perhaps we could find some new trousers and shirts for you to wear in your downtime, as well," Draco suggested.

"I promise I'll pay you back."

"We'll worry about that later. Are you about finished?"

Harry nodded, then glanced at a man who appeared to be watching them.

"Drake," Harry whispered. "Sorry. Draco. That man over there seems to be staring at us. Do you know him?"

Draco turned around to find Ron scowling at him. Ron quickly looked away.

"Unfortunately, yes. That's Ron Weasley. His family and mine have been at odds for years," Draco said, conveniently leaving out the fact that he was also Harry's best friend.

"Well, I don't like the look of him," Harry grumbled.

Smiling to himself, Draco wondered how different things would have been if Harry and Ron hadn't become friendly before Draco had a real chance at Harry.

Having been caught looking at the pair once again, Ron made his way to the table.

"Malfoy," he said disdainfully.

"Weasley," Draco returned, equally so.

"Keeping out of trouble?" Ron turned his attention to Harry. "And who is your friend here? I don't recall seeing him before."

"Am I to report all of my new employees to the Ministry now?" His cool demeanor belied his nervousness at being found out.

Ignoring Draco's jab, Ron asked Harry, "What's your name?"

"You don't have to answer that," Draco cut in.

"Redmond," Harry replied with an insincere smile.

Inwardly pleased that Harry sided with him, Draco smirked at Ron. "Satisfied? Now be on your way Weasley. You have no right to harass me and my guest here."

"You'd better keep your nose clean Malfoy," Ron retorted.

After Ron walked away, Harry said to Draco, "He wasn't very nice. Why did he give you such a hard time?"

"He's an Auror. He thinks it's his job to give me a hard time."

"An Auror? Like me?" Harry questioned. "Are all Aurors such great prigs?"

Draco laughed, "I used to think so." He wasn't sure if Harry caught his meaning but he didn't want the thought to linger. "We should go, if we want to complete all of our errands today."

First Draco took Harry with him to the private residence of a regular customer. The woman there requested a special potion that she seemed reluctant to discuss in front of Harry. After that, the pair apparated, with Harry as a side along, to St. Mungo's. Normally, Draco filled orders for the hospital in bulk. A representative from the hospital came by twice a month to pick up orders. This day, however, Draco was making a special delivery. A particularly virulent case of Doxy poisoning was admitted and Draco had brewed a double strength batch of the antidote.

"Where should we go now?" Draco asked. "Twilfit & Tattings or the book shop?"

Harry scratched his head. "I guess the clothing shop," he said reluctantly. "I have a feeling that I don't care much for clothes shopping. Let's get that over with."

The bell over the door chimed gently as they walked in. A young woman, smartly dressed, approached them.

"Good morning Mr. Malfoy," she smiled. "How can I help you today?"

"Good morning Elizabeth. Actually, it's my friend here that requires your expert attention." Draco knew flattery was always the best way to get the best service. Elizabeth usually tended to him, and though he had an eye for fashion himself, she never steered him wrong. She always managed to include just the right accessory.

Elizabeth eyed Harry up and down, pursing her lips.

"Hmm. Nice build. Not too tall. Are you looking for casual or dressy?"

"Casual," Harry said at the same time Draco said 'dressy'.

Laughing, Elizabeth offered, "How about a bit of both? Just give me a moment."

Harry rifled through a nearby clothing rack and a price tag caught his eye.

"Thirty galleons? What's a galleon? Isn't that pirate money?"

"Shhh," Draco frowned. "It's not pirate money, it's wizard money," he whispered.

"Is thirty a lot for a shirt?" Harry asked.

"Don't worry about it. This is my treat. If I'm going to force you to dress for me, the least I can do is pay for it."

Harry opened his mouth to protest.

"End of story," Draco said sternly.

Just then, Elizabeth returned with a pile of clothing for Harry to try on.

"Dressing room is this way," Elizabeth pointed, and led Harry toward it. She turned around and stopped Draco from following. "You wait here," she smirked. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he models for you." She winked and continued behind Harry.

The first ensemble Harry put on was a pair of tan trousers and a crisp button down shirt with medium blue and tan stripes. She added a light blue tie with brown spots surrounded by smaller, yellow dots.

Draco wrinkled his nose slightly. He was not a fan of the look on Harry. Usually, Elizabeth was spot on.

"Don't you have something more . . . flattering? Something to . . . um, bring out his eyes?" He leaned close to her so Harry wouldn't hear.

"Mr. Malfoy," she lowered her voice. "There is only so much I can do with mousy brown hair and mousy brown eyes. With freckles to boot!" She was a bit insulted by Draco's request.

"What?" he frowned. Then it occurred to him that she was seeing the glamoured version of Harry. Quickly backpedaling, Draco apologized. "On second thought, you're correct as usual. I suppose I'm simply not a fan of the color brown. But could you indulge me and bring out something with purples or greens? I would so appreciate it," he smiled.

As she began to walk away, Draco called out to her, "And perhaps something in black, as well?"

Harry looked at his reflection. He didn't know what the fuss was. Clothes were clothes.

"Drake, really, this is fine. I don't need to try on anything else."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I did it again, didn't I?" Harry asked. "Sorry."

"It's all right. You can call me Drake. Since my name is _so _difficult for you," he said sarcastically.

Secretly, he liked having a nickname. But of course, he made it seem like he was granting Harry a huge concession.

Harry tried on the rest of the clothes Elizabeth had chosen. Though still not completely right for Harry's coloring, they were more tolerable than the first outfit.

Elizabeth came back with another load of clothes, and dragged Harry back to the dressing room. She made him come out each time he changed outfits to show Draco. Though Elizabeth expressed that she did not favor the deep purple and hunter green paisley button down, Draco nodded his approval. Again, Harry thought it was fine, but didn't care much either way. The blue jeans, on the other hand, he thought were too restricting.

"I think you brought me the wrong size," Harry said, tugging at the seat of the jeans.

"No, that's definitely your size," she replied.

"They're awfully tight," Harry frowned.

"Exactly," Elizabeth grinned.

Draco kept unusually quiet about the subject, considering that he had thus far had an opinion on everything else.

Harry emerged from the dressing room several more times wearing various shirts, including a red one and varying shades of khaki, and several different accessories, such as shoes and belts. Finally, he appeared modeling the black clothes Draco requested. At that point Harry was tired of clothes shopping and was anxious to go to the bookstore. He stood in front of the mirror and sighed.

"Good enough?" Harry asked Draco, behind him in a chair, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"Quite," Draco said quietly.

Harry couldn't help notice the way Draco's eyes traveled up and down his frame, and became extremely self-conscious.

Draco cleared his throat and addressed Elizabeth.

"Wrap up the lot. Minus the red shirt and the brown and blue striped. And if you could choose two robes for him to wear at the shop." He saw the look of frustration on Harry's face. "You don't have to try them on."

"Good," Harry breathed out heavily. "I'll go change."

"No," Draco said, a bit too fervently. "Um, why don't you just leave those on. You must be tired of wearing the same thing day after day," Draco suggested in an effort to keep Harry in the formfitting outfit.

Harry looked again in the mirror. He did like the shirt. Unlike the others, it had a short, stand-up collar and small silver buttons. The black jeans were just as tight as the other pair, but the way Draco stared when he thought Harry wasn't looking, made him want to keep wearing them. At first, disconcerted by the thought, Harry decided it wasn't strange at all to want to please the man who was doing so much to help him.

"All right. If it will get us out of here faster, I won't bother changing."

Harry watched as Draco handed over what appeared to be a great deal of money, including a lot of gold.

"Maybe we should have gone somewhere less expensive," Harry whispered.

"Nonsense," Draco waved a hand.

Elizabeth handed Harry two large bags full of clothing and smiled. "It was a pleasure to dress you. If only all of my customers were in such fine shape as you and Mr. Malfoy."

Harry could feel himself blush.

The men left the clothing store and turned down the alley toward the bookstore.

"Thank you," Harry said. "I . . . I hope I really can pay you back."

"I've already told you. Getting new clothing was at my insistence," Draco reminded him. "I don't expect you to pay for them."

"Well, if I pick out some books, I'll pay you back for those," Harry insisted.

Draco smirked, "Have it your way."

They stepped into Flourish & Blotts and were immediately greeted by a sales clerk.

"Good afternoon gentlemen," the clerk said with a smile that looked fake to Harry. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Harry could feel his heart beat a little harder as he contained the anger growing. He watched the man sneer at Draco while looking him up and down. Draco, however, remained cool, and smiled back, in an equally artificial manner.

"Thank you, no. I'm sure we can manage."

Draco hooked his arm around Harry's and pulled him away.

"Did you see the way that man looked at you?" Harry said as he kept glancing back at the clerk and scowling.

"Don't make a big deal about it, Potter," Draco whispered. "I'm so used to it by now that I don't even notice."

"But he was so rude. And you didn't even do anything to provoke it," Harry protested. "And I thought you weren't supposed to call me Potter," he whispered back.

They stopped in front of a large bookshelf.

"You're right, I forgot. Look, it's just the way things are. I have a less than stellar reputation thanks to my involvement in the war."

"War? There was a war? When?"

Draco closed his eyes and touched his fingers to his forehead. It was difficult for him to remember all the things Harry had forgotten.

"Yes, and I'll tell you all about it. But for now, suffice it to say I have not been forgiven by many for being on the wrong side. Even though I was a child, and forced, and feared for my life."

"But you've become an honest businessman. You're so kind. I don't understand why people wouldn't forgive you."

"Because that's just the way people are. It's easier for them to continue hating me than to take the time to find out who I am now," Draco lamented.

"Well, I think they're missing out," Harry told him.

"Thank you," Draco smiled sadly. He felt a twinge of guilt at Harry's praise. He wouldn't exactly call himself kind. And he was, after all, using Harry for his own advantage. But he was also trying to help Harry. At least he hoped Harry would see it that way when he regained his memory.

"So, what are you interested in?" Draco asked Harry.

"What?" He noticed Draco's gesture toward the bookshelf. "Oh, I'm not sure."

"Then why did you want to come here?"

"I see you reading. I figure I should too."

Draco snickered, "You must be interested in _something_ in particular."

Harry thought about what he'd like to read. What was it that most piqued his curiosity?

"Are there any books on that war you told me about?"

Panicking for just a moment, Draco quickly came up with a response that he hoped would discourage Harry from pursuing that subject.

"Yes. But I'm afraid they're all rather biased. I'd prefer to tell you about my family's involvement myself. It's not a flattering tale, but I'll tell it honestly. As honestly as I can from my point of view."

"After seeing that clerk's reaction, I understand," Harry said. "Then what should I read?"

"How about a potions guide," Draco suggested.

"Don't you have books about potions?"

"Yes, several. However, they're all above your level. Perhaps a beginner's guide to ingredients would be more appropriate." He selected one from the front display of bestsellers and gave it to Harry. "If anyone should question it, you could say it's for a niece or nephew."

Harry blinked. "Do I _have_ a niece or nephew?"

"You're an only child. Unless you count that dolt of a cousin you grew up with. Honestly, I have no idea if he has children or not."

Harry wanted to ask Draco just how much he knew about Harry Potter. Sometimes he seemed to know more than he let on. But Harry was enjoying the company and didn't want to stir up trouble.

"What about something a little less academic? Like a novel?" He asked instead.

Draco walked Harry to the fiction section. He shrugged. "Pick one."

Looking at the vast amount of books in the cases, Harry began choosing books based upon, ironically, their cover appeal. He read the back jackets for quite a while until he found one that appealed to him. He chose a novel about a pair of young lovers-one a wizard, the other a muggle, and their struggle to stay together.

Draco peered over his shoulder, breathing slightly on Harry's neck. "Really? I didn't take you for a romantic," he snickered.

"Oh, I, uh . . ." Harry put the book down on the table next to him. Draco picked it back up and handed it to him.

"Don't let me discourage you. It's not my taste, but I'm not making fun."

Reluctantly, Harry took the book, but placed it under the potions book so no one would see it. He followed Draco to another section of the store. Harry looked up to see a sign labeled 'Biographies'.

"Is that what you've been reading all the time?"

"Mostly," Draco answered. "But sometimes I enjoy a good fiction. Usually mysteries, though."

"Ooh, maybe I should have gotten a mystery novel," Harry said excitedly.

"Don't worry, I have plenty at home that you can read."

Draco picked a book about Godric Gryffindor, then directed Harry toward another section.

"Who's Godric Gryffindor?" Harry cocked his head to the side to read the cover of Draco's pick.

Smirking, he answered, "He was one of the founders of the wizarding school we attended. I've never taken the time to learn much about him. Actually, the House you were in was called Gryffindor, named for him."

"Oh. Were you in Gryffindor as well?" Harry asked innocently.

Laughing out loud, Draco stopped in his tracks. "I'm sorry. If you only knew what a ridiculous question that is." Draco wiped at a stray tear that escaped during his laughing fit.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.

"Oh, Harry, I really am sorry for laughing." Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm. "My house was notorious for being rather . . . unscrupulous and conniving. Yours was known for courage and bravery. The thought of _me _being a Gryffindor . . ." Draco began laughing again.

Though he wanted to be angry with Draco for laughing at him, Harry couldn't help smiling. It was the first time he saw genuine heartfelt laughter from the normally stoic man. His elusive smile was dazzling.

"Come on," Draco said, taking Harry by the arm. They turned a corner and bumped, literally, into Luna Lovegood.

"Well, hello," she said, in the same melodic tone her voice had at Hogwarts.

Draco nodded. "Lovegood."

"How is the potions business these days?" she asked politely.

"Very well, thank you. And how . . . are you?" He had no idea what Luna had been up to for the past few years, though he had spotted her in the bookstore several times since leaving Hogwarts.

"I'm planning another trip to Sweden, hoping to find a Snorkack this time." She looked at Harry and cocked her head to the side. "And who are you? I don't recall seeing your face in here before."

Draco nearly flinched at her choice of words.

"This is Redmond, an associate of mine," Draco answered for him.

Luna looked at Harry closely, making Draco nervous. If anyone was going to spot a glamour on Harry, it would be Loony Lovegood. She seemed to have a sense for oddities.

Harry grew uncomfortable under her scrutiny and was ready to bolt, when she finally stopped and blinked.

"You might want to do something about those wrackspurts. Well, it was nice meeting you."

Luna was on her way before Harry could respond.

"Who was that?" he asked his companion.

"Luna Lovegood. She always was a bit wonky."

"What are wrackspurts?" Harry asked worriedly.

Draco shrugged. "She's often claimed to have seen things that other people don't. Or perhaps things that aren't actually there," he snickered. He took a few steps, eyeing the bookcase.

Harry wandered a few paces away scanning the shelves up and down. As he made his way down, he leaned over, inadvertently giving Draco an eyeful of his finely shaped arse in his new snug black jeans.

Trying his best not to look, but failing miserably, Draco took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. He did, until the realization that it was Harry Potter's arse he was admiring, hit him. He tore his attention away from an oblivious Harry, and resumed his book search.

"Ah, here's what I'm looking for," Draco slid a small, black leather bound book from its place and added it to their order. "Let's take these to the register and get out of here. We've been at it for hours, and I'm ravenous." Draco's eyes widened at his unintentional innuendo. "Shopping, I mean," he blushed lightly.

Whether Harry ignored Draco's comment, or didn't catch the faux pas, Draco was thankful that Harry didn't remark on it.

"Yeah, I'm kind of hungry as well," Harry was loath to admit. He knew Draco would suggest going out to eat and didn't want him to have to pay for Harry's supper.

Draco paid for the books and suggested a muggle pub for an early dinner. He had taken to frequenting muggle establishments, as they treated him with more respect than many wizarding ones.

He apparated them to a quiet neighborhood street with a few places of business peppered throughout. He reminded Harry that because it was a muggle pub, they should refrain from talking about magic while at the Sheepshead Inn.

The pair sat in a corner booth, with their purchases from the day piled in next to Harry. Because of the packages, Harry was forced to sit a little closer to Draco than he would normally. He found that he didn't really mind.

All through supper, Harry asked questions about Draco's personal life. He wanted to know about his family and friends, what sort of childhood he had, what other passions he had, besides potions. Draco answered the best he could, without giving away too much information. Even if it wasn't Harry Potter asking him, he'd be reluctant to open himself up too much.

Since Harry couldn't remember anything since his own childhood, Draco limited his questions to life at the Dursley home. He was very curious as to Harry's life since the war, as Harry himself managed to elude the papers for the most part. But that would have to wait until Harry regained his memories. If he was still speaking to Draco when he did.

"It must have been lonely for you," Draco commented. He realized why Harry would have disdained him in school. Draco had everything he could ever want. He had attention and material goods lavished upon him, while Harry clung to the very few belongings he had.

"Oh, don't feel sorry for me," Harry smiled. "Apparently I got out of there and I've got a good job now. Right?"

"Yes," Draco said.

"So my life couldn't have been all that bad." Harry's optimism was almost painful to witness. Draco knew Harry's life had been difficult. More difficult than anyone should have to bear.

"Drake?"

"Huh? Sorry." Draco's mind had wandered into the past.

"I know you know more than you're telling me. I can see it in your eyes. Maybe you think I can't handle it, and maybe I can't. Yet. But I hope you'll be able to be completely honest with me some day." Harry gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You're right. I do know more about you than I've told you. But what I know is from my own perspective. I'm sure you have a completely different point of view."

Harry nodded. "That's probably true."

"I don't want to muddle your mind any more that it is already by giving you inaccurate information, and I'm doing my best not to influence you too much. But I'll answer any questions you have," Draco said with reluctance.

Draco figured Harry would ask him about their mutual past, about the war, and about Ron. He also figured that their budding friendship would end once he did tell Harry about those things. He owed it to Harry to be honest. He just wasn't going to volunteer the particulars unless the brunet asked.

To his surprise, Harry said, "Whatever you think is best. Perhaps I'm not ready to know everything yet. I'm having a hard enough time with what I've learned so far."

The small bits of information he'd gathered thus far indicated that the two of them hadn't got on well in the past. And Harry Potter sounded a bit like an arse. He was happy to remain blissfully unaware of what a great prick he may have been. Harry was also afraid of losing the developing rapport and chose not to press the issue. Much to Draco's relief.

That evening, Harry enjoyed reading his novel while Draco studied the book he chose about memory. Reading about people whose problems seemed worse than his allowed him to forget his troubles for a while. Every so often, he glanced up to watch the concentration on Draco's face. Harry was very grateful for all that this handsome stranger had done for him. And he was surprised by how quickly he felt comfortable in Draco's presence.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

* * *

**Ah, blissful ignorance. Sorry, no sneak peaks this chapter. I'm still working on the next chapter. Let me know your thoughts. Thanks for reading!**


	4. stuck in reverse ch 4

***Well, you all gave me such nice feedback, I thought I'd give you a little gift. It's a little sooner than I usually post, but I worked on this all day so I could get it out for Memorial Day. In between cooking out and cleaning and making cookies, that is :)**

**Harry is not in this chapter, but it explains what is going on**

**DracoMalfoyIsMyLionI'mHisLamb- Ooh, that's not in the plans, but what a great idea**

**Obsessed362- Draco hasn't done anything yet . . . But remember, he hasn't been very honest with him. He's already had opportunities to hand him over to his friends and didn't take them.**

**BloodyRose90- Yeah, as Draco's personal dresser, Elizabeth would know about the company he keeps. I imagine that he likes to dress his boys properly, being as particular as he is :)**

**ClaireBouldwin- I think you may have misread that. Owling Ron and Hermione was one of his options, but he decided to try and fix Harry himself. At this point, they don't know what happened to Harry.**

**da-blk-saiyangirl- you'll find out why the potion didn't work here**

**FantasyFiend09- Draco really is trying hard to be good, but Harry isn't going to make it easy lol**

**Thanks also to Bookwoman17NerdyMom, WitchRavenFox, Antybioda, ChrystelleK, Clary girl two, cassy1994, quirkyKitty93 & luvsallthingsslash for taking the time to read and review!**

* * *

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day 7, Saturday

"I'm going out again," Ron said to Hermione.

"Where? Where else can you possibly look?" she asked.

"There are a million places to look."

"That's exactly my point, Ron. Harry could be anywhere. You can't keep searching willy-nilly."

"But I can't just sit here and do nothing." Ron cradled his head in his hands. "He's been missing for almost a week."

"I know," Hermione said quietly as she placed her hands over Ron's. She lifted his face up to hers. "We have to go about this logically, though."

The last Ron and Hermione had seen of Harry, they had been trying to talk him out of going after one of the Death Eaters on his own. He had received an anonymous tip that Nazar Duncan was hiding out in one of the abandoned store fronts in Diagon Alley. The Aurors received many tips about Death Eater activity, much of which turned out to be false. Expecting that the information about Duncan was also false, Harry felt it wasn't a risk to go alone.

Ron thought he had convinced Harry to wait for him on that Sunday afternoon six days prior. But when Harry didn't show up at the office on Monday, Ron grew worried. He searched up and down the Alley all day, finding no sign of Harry. He and Hermione tried Harry's home on Grimmauld Place, The Burrow, Ginny's home and countless others, on the off chance Harry just needed to get away and didn't inform them. He had been known to take secret holidays now and then. However, within a day or two, Harry would surface, or at the very least owl them. And the Ministry always knew of Harry's time off.

The Ministry was not aware of Harry's whereabouts this time, which led Ron to the conclusion that Nazar Duncan had done something to him. Ron hoped it wasn't the worst.

As usual, Hermione was the voice of reason. "We need to find out more about this Duncan character. He kept a relatively low profile, for a Death Eater. I suspect perhaps he was playing both sides. Let's go to the Ministry and find out what they have on file."

Ron sighed. "That's a good idea," he conceded. He gave her a small smile and kissed her cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

The file on Duncan was relatively small, as Hermione suspected. But there was some very important information to be found.

"He sure moved around a lot," Ron frowned.

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "He's from London, but he lived in Scotland and Monaco for a while. His last known address was in Germany. He was working for a wizard named Hans Neustadt."

"I think we need to pay this bloke a visit," Ron said.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day 9, Monday

"How long did Duncan work for you?" Ron asked Neustadt.

"Nearly a year," the man answered in a thick German accent.

"Did he give a forwarding address?" Hermione questioned.

"No. The man stole from me before he left. He wasn't daft enough to tell me how to find him."

"What did he steal?" Ron queried.

"Mainly potion ingredients," Neustadt replied. "And some of my notes. Not much of consequence. My research is copyrighted, so he can't do much with it. But it was the principle."

"What sort of notes?"

"The main focus of my work is memory recovery."

"And do you believe he wanted to use your methods for anything in particular?" Hermione asked. Ron gave her a look of annoyance. It was supposed to be his interrogation. He was the Auror, after all.

"He never mentioned needing to recover someone's memory. He was much more interested in removing them."

"Like Obliviation?"

Neustadt laughed. "Nothing as simple as that. I've been working on very selective memory removal."

"How is it different?"

"Selective memory removal, or more accurately, masking, can be useful in psychological therapy. The number of wizards seeking counseling after the war was overwhelming. My experimental process is designed to mask traumatic experiences, and slowly bring them back bit by bit while undergoing counseling to deal with the patient's emotional well being. It's a slow process, but I've had success with a few patients," Neustadt told them.

"So, why not just remove bad memories?" Ron asked.

"Because, my boy, not dealing with trauma is no way to go through life. We must learn along the way. We learn more from what goes wrong, than what goes right."

Ron rolled his eyes, but Hermione leaned forward in her chair.

"I agree. For example, if we all simply forgot about bad things that happened as a result of the war, or why it began in the first place, it could easily happen all over again."

"Wars do happen over and over again," Ron interjected.

"True," she conceded. Then she put it in more personal terms for Ron. "What if you were made to forget Fred's death. You wouldn't have grieved for him. But how would you explain his absence? Would you rather not remember any of his life to avoid the pain of his death?"

For a moment, Ron was shocked that Hermione would be so blunt. However, he saw her point.

"Yes," Neustadt nodded. "Memories are integrated. It's difficult to lose one single memory alone."

"Mum could have used that kind of therapy. It took years for her to be able to look at George without crying."

"Is it hard to access the memories once they've been masked with your process?" Hermione asked, merely out of curiosity. "Some years ago, I altered my parents' memories of me and Harry, and magic in general, to protect them from Voldemort. Basically, I changed their memories as a whole, so it wasn't difficult to simply remove the charm to restore them."

"I see," Neustadt said. "Mine is a step process, and it takes time to conceal or reveal."

"Could Duncan do this?" Ron broke into their conversation.

"Excuse me?"

"Using the notes he stole, could he mask someone's memories?" Ron asked impatiently.

"No." Neustadt frowned. "I don't think . . . perhaps, if he took care. He's a relatively clever man. He made potions for me. Some of them tricky. But I don't think his skills with a wand are up to the delicacies of my techniques."

"And what if he tried? What could happen if he tried and wasn't very good at it?"

The man's face paled. "There would be consequences. Perhaps the permanent concealment of certain memories. Or too many taken."

"Mione, what if Nazar did this to Harry?" Ron whispered to Hermione. "Harry could be walking around not remembering who he is or something. We need to find him as quickly as possible."

"How? He could be anywhere."

"I'll contact the Aurors offices in all the major wizarding cities. Someone is bound to have seen him or Harry. I have a bad feeling about this."

Neustadt couldn't hear what the pair was saying, but he could see the concern on their faces.

"What is it?" he questioned. "Do you think Mr. Duncan has used my techniques on someone?"

"Possibly. Our friend has gone missing. We believe Nazar Duncan was the last person to see him.

"If you're correct, it could be worse than you think," Neustadt interjected. Hermione and Ron looked at him with dread. "The longer the memories are masked, the more difficult they become to retrieve. Or believe."

Hermione blinked at the startling information. "You mean, a patient may not believe his or her own memory?"

"The mind tends to fill in gaps. The power of suggestion also can play a part. Reality is what we perceive. That's why ten people who witness the same event can each have a slightly different account of what happened."

"So, if he goes too long with gaps in his memory, his mind will just make it up and we won't be able to convince him he's wrong?" Ron asked.

"That's a simplified way of looking at it, but yes," Neustadt said.

"How long is too long?"

"It's hard to say. Each patient is different."

"A guess, please?" Hermione appealed to the man.

"I've seen it happen after three months."

"Well, he's only been gone a little more than a week," Ron said hopefully. "We'll just have to find him straightaway."

"Thank you, sir, for your help," Hermione smiled.

"When you find your friend, bring him to me. Only I will be able to help. Conventional memory retrieval methods will have little affect, and could be detrimental."

"It's not just our friend. It's Harry Potter," Ron said.

"I'll come to him," Neustadt offered.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Ron and Hermione left Germany and returned home with renewed urgency to find Harry.

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions. We don't know if Duncan is even able to perform that sort of complicated magic. And why would he do it to Harry? We don't know if Harry even found Duncan that day."

"Maybe he did. Maybe Duncan is planning to do something to all the Aurors' memories."

"Or maybe he hasn't done anything to Harry's memory," Hermione said quietly. "We have to consider the possibility that he's done something more sinister."

"No," Ron said. "Fucking Voldemort couldn't kill Harry. No way some two-bit Death Eater got the best of him. I'm not giving up on him."

"I'm not either, Ron. I'm only trying to be logical."

"Well, stop," Ron snapped. "I'm trying to be hopeful."

"I'm sorry. Why don't you go now and get the word out to the other Aurors," Hermione suggested. "I'll take another trip to Diagon Alley. Perhaps if the questions come from a less official source, someone who's seen something will step forward."

Ron at first began to protest, but relented. "You may be right, Mione. People clam up when an Auror comes around."

With a kiss, they each went off to their appointed tasks. While Ron went to the Ministry, Hermione took a trip to Diagon Alley. She canvassed the shops to find that no one remembered seeing Harry recently, except for one woman who thought she saw him pass by the previous Sunday. It wasn't much, but it fit in with Ron's theory that Harry went after Duncan on his own.

Hermione stopped in to say hello to George at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Business was still brisk and he had taken on a new partner in crime. It wasn't the same as working with Fred. But with the help of his family and wife Angelina, George was healing.

He kissed Hermione's cheek. "What brings you in here?"

"A little levity."

His smile dropped. "What's wrong?"

"Still no sign of Harry. Ron's trying not to show it, but he's terribly worried."

She explained the theory Ron came up with after speaking with Hans Neustadt.

"Harry's been known to take off on his own now and again. It was Ginny's biggest complaint," George said. "Maybe that's what he's done this time."

"Yes, but not this long without a word."

"Maybe he's found himself a new bird," George suggested. "I think Ginny always thought he was sneaking off with some bint when he went on those soul searching jags." He crooked his finger for air quotes when he said the words _soul searching_.

Hermione sighed. "I don't think so." She did, however, suspect that Harry may have been meeting other men during those times. But she certainly wasn't going to tell George that.

Instead, she said, "He would have sent word by now if he could."

"Anything I can do?"

Hermione shrugged. "Just keep an eye out. And an ear. If you hear anything, let Ron know immediately."

"Of course."

"Well, I guess I'm off. Although, I'm not sure where else to look."

"Hmm," George stroked his chin. "If you want to find a Death Eater, why don't you ask another one."

Hermione cocked her head, questioningly.

"Malfoy," George said. "Maybe he's heard of this Duncan fellow. He may still have an in with the Death Eaters."

"I hadn't thought of that," she said. "Somehow, I doubt he'd be cooperative. Especially regarding Harry. But it's worth a shot, I suppose."

"He's got a shop around the corner in Knockturn Alley, The Dragon's Lair."

She smirked. "How apropos. Thank you."

"Anything for Ron's best girl," he smiled and kissed her cheek again.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

As she walked into Knockturn Alley, Hermione thought about what she would say to Malfoy. She hadn't laid eyes on him in about four years, while he was an apprentice at a local apothecary. He had been just as smarmy as ever then, correcting her in her request for potion ingredients. He had been right about what she needed, but that was beside the point. He had been less than gracious about it, even if he did save her from having her potion blow up in her face. Malfoy left that shop shortly after to start up his own. Hermione never patronized his store.

She stopped and looked up at the sign hanging over the doorway. She had to admit that it was clever. The sign was beautifully crafted and stood out among others down the Alley.

A small bell chimed as she walked in the front door. The man who greeted her with a smile was not someone she had seen before. He was unremarkable and therefor, forgotten almost immediately when Draco Malfoy approached.

"Granger. Slumming it?" He smirked. "How can I help you?"

Hermione was surprised by his nearly playful demeanor. She expected a scowl, if he spoke to her at all. She was also surprised by his appearance. No longer gangly and awkward, Draco stood confident and tall. His hair was styled more naturally than it had been when he was younger. She might have even described him as handsome, if she didn't know what a git he was.

"It's Weasley."

"Of course. My apologies. I did hear about yet another Weasley wedding."

So, his attitude toward her hadn't changed quite as much as she first thought.

He continued, automatically falling into his standard salesman routine. "Is there something specific you're looking for? Something unusual perhaps? I get so few customers who truly appreciate the fine art of potion making."

Thrown off by the compliment, if that's what it was, Hermione stammered. "Uh, no. Um, actually, I didn't come in to purchase anything."

"Oh," he frowned. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Could she possibly have known Harry was there?

"I, um, came to enlist your help," she told him.

There was an awkward silence between them for a moment.

"Do I have to guess what it is?" he asked sarcastically.

"Sorry, no. I came to ask you if you've ever heard of a man named Nazar Duncan."

"I've heard of him, yes."

"You wouldn't happen to know his whereabouts, would you?" she asked timidly.

"Why would I know where-" He stopped and let out a grunt. "You think all Death Eaters know one another? Is that it? Do the Weasles know all the other red heads out there?"

Embarrassed for her assumption, Hermione apologized.

"I didn't mean to insult you. I know you've renounced the Death Eaters publicly. It's just that, you're the only connection left in the Alleys."

"And you thought I could find out where this man is hiding at our next club meeting?" He spat mockingly. "Now if you'll excuse me. I have actual customers that require my attention." He turned to leave.

"Then, you don't have any idea where Duncan might be?" she reiterated. Malfoy never said he didn't know.

He turned back to her in disbelief. "First of all Granger, Weasley, whatever- I am a _former_ Death Eater. Secondly, I am a legitimate businessman running a clean business. And thirdly- " He was frustrated at not being able to think of a third thing to say, incensed as he was. "If you're not going to buy anything, please leave my shop."

Draco had never booted out a potential customer before. He'd learned from the beginning not to burn bridges, particularly in Knockturn Alley. But Granger impugned his honor.

"Fine," she said. "You won't find me in here again."

Hermione regretted saying the moment it left her mouth. Draco's shop was meticulously kept, with potions arranged logically, the way she would have. Not to mention, he had a reputation for being an excellent Potions Master. She would have rather enjoyed spending hours perusing his wares.

She reached the front door, then as an afterthought asked, "Has Harry been here recently?" She was aware that Harry had been keeping tabs on Malfoy over the years.

He attempted to keep his reaction in check, but couldn't help glancing around to see if Harry was near. Thankfully, he must have been in the back with Mirabelle.

"Potter? No. He's not shown his face in here for quite a while." He was inwardly pleased with his phrasing, should he ever be called to task for lying. "Is there a problem?"

There was something odd about Malfoy's reaction to her question, but Hermione couldn't put her finger on it. With nothing else to say, she simply said, "Good day."

Draco breathed a huge sigh of relief when Hermione left the shop.

Harry would ask later about the young woman he was yelling at. When Draco explained that it was Ron Weasley's wife, Harry assumed she was giving Draco a hard time just as Ron had. Harry didn't think much of Hermione's visit and forgot about her as quickly as she dismissed him when she first entered the Dragon's Lair.

However, Draco learned a great deal from her visit. He had assumed that Harry's friends would be looking for him, but not so desperately that they would try to enlist _his _help. And now he had a name, a suspect in Harry's disappearance, if he assumed correctly. He'd heard of Duncan. He was neither a particularly good wizard, nor a good criminal. Perhaps, he was the key to Harry's memory loss.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

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**Sorry there was no Drarry interaction this chapter. But I think the next chapter will make up for that ;)**


	5. if you never try, you'll never know

***I know that last chapter was somewhat of a disappointment, being Drarry-less and all. The information, though, will come up again, so it's relevant to the story. But this chapter makes up for it (hopefully) And it answers luvsallthingsslash's question.**

**And it spans over the course of two weeks.**

**Thanks to ClaireBouldwin, lusallthingsslash, cassy1994, BloodyRose90, WitchRavenFox and Obsessed362 for your feedback. It's always appreciated!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day Ten, Tuesday

The week after their trip to Diagon Alley, Draco approached Harry with a technique he'd read about. It wouldn't restore his memory, but it could give clues as to whether or not the memories were still there.

They sat at the small kitchen table after the supper dishes had been cleared.

"Okay, so how this works is, I'll say a word and you say the first thing that comes to mind."

"What if I don't think of anything?"

"I'm sure something will come to mind," Draco smirked. "Even if it doesn't make sense to you, say it."

"All right, but I'm not sure how it'll help."

"It may not. But this won't hurt. I promise."

Draco told Harry to relax and close his eyes, and to clear his mind as much as he could. He looked at the list of words he had prepared and readied his quill to record Harry's responses. The list was a mixture of every day, wizard and muggle terms.

"Ready?" Draco asked. Harry nodded.

Draco began. "Black."

"White."

"Ball."

"Bounce."

"Snake."

"Hiss." Harry answered but hesitated. Draco made a note to ask him about it later.

"Book."

"Read."

"Star."

"Shine."

"Dog."

"Cat."

"Owl."

"White." Harry frowned.

"Cake."

"Vanilla."

"Magic."

"Wand."

"Castle."

"King."

"Quidditch."

"What?"

"Just say the first thing," Draco ordered. "Quidditch."

"I can't think of anything."

"I'll come back to that," Draco said. "Broom."

"Stick."

"Voldemort."

Harry hesitated once again, but answered, "Death."

"Socks."

"Shoes."

"Elf."

Harry giggled. "Christmas."

"Quidditch," Draco tried again.

"Stitch."

"Dragon."

Harry opened his eyes. "You?"

Cocking his head, Draco asked, "Do you mean ewe as in sheep, or me?"

"You as in you," Harry pointed. "No offense," he added.

Draco laughed. "None taken. Actually, I consider it a compliment. And a good sign. My name means dragon." He grinned, "Although you insist on butchering it."

Harry blushed. "Sorry."

"I told you it's all right," Draco smiled. "It's better than what you used to call me." He inwardly cursed himself for once again saying too much.

"What did I used to call you?"

"Ferret," Draco answered, looking away.

"Jeez. I really was a git, wasn't I?"

"Believe me, I called you names as well. We did much worse than that, actually. But that's in the past."

"I guess I can't very well be angry about something I can't remember." Harry stole a glance at the list. "So, how did I do?"

Draco turned the paper slightly so Harry could look at it with him, causing Harry to lean in a little.

"You gave a lot of answers that would probably be typical for a muggle. For example, when I said black, you said white."

"Is that not good?"

"It's not necessarily bad," Draco replied. "But you had a Godfather named Black. I thought you would have given his first name or something related to him perhaps."

"Look here," Harry pointed, his arm brushing against Draco's. "I answered white again. For owl?"

Draco was momentarily distracted by the contact. "I believe you once owned a white owl."

"I had an owl? Cool."

Looking at his notes, Draco asked, "Why did you hesitate before answering 'hiss' when I said snake?"

"I thought slither too," Harry replied. "But I thought of hiss first, so that's what I said."

"Oh. Interesting. The name of my House at school was Slytherin. The symbol was a snake," Draco told him. "But slither is a word one associates with snakes, so I don't think it's particularly significant."

Looking further down the list Harry commented, "I don't know why I said vanilla for cake. I always go for chocolate."

"Oh."

Harry pointed to another word. "What's Vol-de-mort?" He sounded it out slowly. "I think I've heard you say that before."

Before answering, Draco asked Harry, "Why did you say death?"

Harry shrugged. "It reminded me of the word mortician, I suppose. I thought of death. What is it?"

"Death would be a good way to describe him."

"Voldemort is a person?" Harry looked at Draco. "You seem uncomfortable talking about him. Why would you include the name on the list?"

"He was the reason for the war." The former Death Eater sighed heavily. "I reckon I ought to tell you about it then." He had been trying to avoid it, but it was inevitable, once he let it slip.

He got up to make tea, and brought to the table some cookies he had begun keeping since he found out Harry had a sweet tooth. He made a mental note to get chocolate ones next time.

Harry listened quietly, sipping his tea, as Draco told him bits and pieces of the war- what he knew about it at any rate. As Draco wasn't privy to all that the Golden Trio had done during their time at Hogwarts, he was only able to tell what he observed or heard second hand.

He did tell Harry that he had been the hero and was the one who finally brought down the Dark Lord. The skepticism was written all over Harry's face, especially upon hearing that he had effectively given up his life for the cause. He shamefully felt that if Harry Redmond had been in Potter's place, the war would have gone quite differently.

Reluctantly, Draco also recounted his family's involvement, as well as his, personally. After almost an hour, he felt he had divulged as much as Harry could handle without overwhelming him. Intending originally to downplay his family's role in the war, Draco found it rather cathartic to talk about his feelings regarding the matter. And whereas Harry Potter may have had no sympathy for what Draco personally went through, Harry Redmond had a great deal.

"That's awful," Harry said when Draco was finally finished. "And I thought Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were terrible people."

"Don't get me wrong," Draco said. "My parents did the best they could to protect me. They loved me. But once they had gotten involved with the Death Eaters, they had little control."

Harry subconsciously put a hand atop Draco's. "Well, it still must have been horrible, having those people take over your home and your lives."

Very aware of the hand on his own, the blond remained motionless so as not to draw attention to it. He enjoyed the warm gesture. It had been quite a while since he had been shown some sort of comfort.

"I didn't have it nearly as badly as you," Draco replied.

Harry laughed gently. "But I can't remember, so it's as though it never happened for me."

"I envy you that."

Reluctant to take his hand away, Draco eventually stood to clear the dishes from their snack. By the time the kitchen was clean, it was about the usual time for bed. Draco suggested they read awhile before turning in. Harry suspected it was a way for Draco to get his mind off the atrocities of which he spoke.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day Eleven, Wednesday

On the next day off, Harry woke up early despite not having to get up and work in the shop. He crept downstairs as quietly as possible as he could, taking his potions book with him. Though Draco had told him he was doing fine, Harry knew he still had a lot to learn. He often confused ingredients or forgot how they were to be used.

About two hours later, Harry had the strange feeling that he was being watched. He looked up from the jars to see Draco leaning against the doorjamb.

"If only you were this enthusiastic in school, Potter," Draco laughed. "Potions wasn't your forte."

Harry frowned. "You mean I was terrible with all this even when I remembered how?" He let out a sigh.

"Don't worry, you're exceptionally good at other things equally important." Draco walked to Harry and closed his book. "Besides, it's your day off."

"You called me Potter again," Harry pointed out. "I guess I'm not the only one bad with names, Drac-o." He emphasized the O.

"Actually, I've gotten used to you calling me Drake. But you're right. I should always refer to you as Harry so I don't slip in public."

"Speaking of public, are we going out today?" Harry asked excitedly.

"I hadn't really thought about it. Is there somewhere you wanted to go?"

"_Anywhere_," Harry said. "I feel all cooped up here."

"Hmm," Draco thought. "Maybe it would be a good idea to go to some of the places you used to frequent, like Hogsmeade."

"Hogsmeade?" Harry questioned. "Is that a dairy farm?"

Draco laughed. "No, it's a small village near Hogwarts."

"That's the school you told me about, right?"

"Yes. Students would take trips to Hogsmeade. It was near enough to walk, but not so that we went often," Draco told him. "We should go. Perhaps being somewhere so familiar will jog your memory."

Harry smiled. "All right. I'll go shower."

"I'll pick up breakfast for us while I'm waiting," Draco offered.

Bounding up the staircase like a child, Harry was excited to get out of the shop. They hadn't left it or Draco's flat since the Wednesday prior, except for a few quick meals.

Following breakfast, Draco apparated them to Hogsmeade, where they walked around a bit. Draco pointed out various establishments and told a few stories of his experiences in the village. All the while, he looked for any sign of recognition on Harry's face. Unfortunately, he saw none.

As they strolled toward the Three Broomsticks, Harry noticed something in the distance.

"Is that a castle?"

"That's Hogwarts."

"We went to school in a castle? It looks huge," Harry said.

Draco blinked. "Wait. You can see it?"

"Well, of course I can see it. It's colossal. And magnificent."

"But you don't understand. It's charmed to discourage muggles from approaching. You shouldn't see anything but a dilapidated old building," Draco said excitedly. "The fact that you can see it is a sign that your magic isn't tucked away quite as deeply as I thought."

Lost in thought, Draco slowly walked toward the tavern with Harry close at his side.

They found a table in a corner and ordered a couple of butterbeers, at Draco's insistence. Perusing the menu, Harry glanced up and noticed the way the server and the barmaid both looked at Draco. Neither had a smile for the pair. And Harry overheard one customer ask quietly to move to a different table, one farther away.

"Not a very friendly place," Harry commented as he took a sip from his glass. He made a sour face and put it back down. "And you say we used to come here when we were students?"

"It was a friendly place, for you and your friends. My friends and I didn't exactly endear ourselves to the staff."

"How long ago was this war?"

"Let's see, it ended in May, nineteen hundred ninety-eight. So, just seven years. Obviously it went on for years before that. But the final battle was seven years ago."

"And people still haven't let go of their animosity towards you?" Harry shook his head. "I suppose I should include myself in that."

"Don't beat yourself up about it. I'm used to it. People need someone to be the bad guy. You can't very well have a hero without a bad guy. And all the other bad guys are either dead, in Azkaban, or still in hiding. I'm the only one foolish enough to present myself as a target."

"But they're hypocrites, all those people who patronize your shop in secret."

Draco smiled. "Somehow I still manage to feel smug about it."

Harry laughed. "Yes, you do have a certain air of superiority about you."

"An air? Why, I _am_ superior," Draco winked. And Harry's stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies. Draco most certainly was superior.

Throughout the rest of their lunch, Harry's mind kept wandering. He was having a difficult time reconciling the man that clearly was disdained by many, with the man he found to be so kind and charming. He felt he had spent enough time with Draco-eleven days, to be precise- to believe that the person he was with was genuine. Nobody could keep up an act against their natural personality that long. Of course, Harry had witnessed times when Draco had lost his patience. But he was a perfectionist. Harry didn't really see that as a flaw, though.

Draco turned to find Harry staring at him.

"What?" Draco asked self-consciously.

Startled out of his day dream, Harry jumped slightly. "N-Nothing. Sorry. I just . . . I guess I don't understand people."

Draco smirked. "Which is why I try to avoid them."

"Well, it's not right."

Harry subconsciously growled as he ate his meal, thinking about the people in the tavern, the bookstore and especially that Ron Weasley character. He was certain that f they got to know Draco the way he had, they'd find him just as agreeable and charming as he did.

Realizing he'd thought of the word charming to describe him yet again, Harry looked at his lunch companion. He was more than charming. He was intelligent and thoughtful. And handsome. Yes, now that Harry thought about it, he found the blond very attractive.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day nineteen, Thursday

The next week as he and Mirabelle sat to have lunch together as usual, Harry finally got up the nerve to bring up a delicate subject.

"Mirabelle, you said that Drake, er, Mr. Malfoy, entertains young men occasionally in his flat. Does he entertain _only_ men?"

She tried to keep from snickering. Despite Harry's earlier protestations, she could see that his interest in Draco was more than merely as a mentor. But Mirabelle liked Harry and she could see a small change in Draco's demeanor since Harry came into their lives, so she resisted the urge to tease him.

"Yes. As far as I know, he isn't interested in women." She laughed, "If he were, I would have thrown my hat into the ring. He's quite a catch."

"Yeah," Harry said absentmindedly. "Um, I mean, uh, I guess," he stammered and blushed.

"Don't be embarrassed," she told him. "There's nothing wrong with having a crush. I think you'd be good for him. You keep him a bit off kilter."

"I do? You don't think it's odd for me to fancy a bloke?"

"Not at all," Mirabelle smiled. "Especially a bloke that seems to fancy you back."

Harry's gaze traveled to the open door. He couldn't see Draco, but he knew he was out in the shop. Harry shook his head.

"I don't think so. He's just being nice."

Mirabelle laughed out loud. "Nice is not how most people would describe him."

"Yes, I've noticed. But you like him, right?"

Mirabelle nodded. "Yes, he's a good employer and tutor. Probably because he wants his potions just so. But he's taught me well and compensates me fairly. More fairly than most apprentices."

Agreeing, Harry said, "You're right. He's done so much for me. I'd like to do something nice for him."

"Like what?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I don't really have any money, so I can't buy him anything. And besides, he can afford anything he wants."

"Doesn't he pay you to work here?" Mirabelle asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"He offered. After everything he's done, I couldn't take any money. He's already bought me new clothes, and he provides a place to sleep and meals- hey, maybe I can cook for him. He eats nothing but take away and restaurant food."

"You can cook?"

"Well, I can cook breakfast. I cook-used to cook, breakfast for my Aunt and Uncle." Harry frowned. "But I don't think Drake has what I need for a proper breakfast."

"I can help," Mirabelle offered. "What do you need? I can pick it up for you."

"But I don't have any money to pay for it."

"You can owe me," she grinned. The way to a man's heart is through the stomach, her muggle born mother used to say. And she was going to do whatever she could to help get those two together.

Harry smiled and gave Mirabelle a list of ingredients he would need to make a proper home made breakfast in bed. Harry stopped short at that though. Perhaps he ought to serve it at the table, he decided.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day twenty-four, Tuesday

Draco began to stir, the smell of frying sausage filling his nose. He opened his eyes to find Harry at the stove with his back to him. Harry was whistling quietly to himself, flipping flapjacks, stirring beans and turning bangers.

Inhaling deeply, Draco inadvertently moaned at the scrumptious aromas.

With a start, Harry turned around and grinned.

"Oh, you're finally up. I hope you're hungry,"

The tea kettle whistled loudly. Harry grabbed it with a towel and poured into the waiting tea pot.

"Smells wonderful," Draco said with a stretch. "Where did you learn to cook?"

"Aunt Petunia made me learn how so I could make breakfast for them," Harry answered. "At the time, I thought it was terribly unfair forcing a child to cook for the family. But now I'm glad, because I can do this for you." He grinned brightly.

"For me?"

"Yes, for you. Have a seat. It's almost ready." Harry gestured with a spatula to the kitchen table, which was neatly set for two.

Draco threw off the covers and eagerly sat down, waiting for Harry to finish. The more he smelled the food, the hungrier he became. Typically, he had only tea for breakfast with perhaps a bun or scone. But he was looking forward to the fry up Harry was preparing. He craned his neck trying to get a look at all Harry had going on the stove.

"Is that black pudding I see?"

Smiling to himself, Harry nodded casually. "Mhm."

Licking his lips, Draco commented, "I haven't had that in a very long time. You didn't make that from scratch, did you?"

Harry turned around and grinned. "Maybe," he teased.

"Where did you get all the ingredients? And how are you using my stove?"

Harry began to plate the meal of not only black pudding, but baked beans, rashers, and banana pancakes. There was a bowl of fresh berries on the table and a pot of tea steeping.

"Mirabelle helped me," Harry said sheepishly as he placed a plate down in front of Draco. "She went shopping for me yesterday. Then she came in early this morning, and I snuck her up here to get the stove working for me."

"Without waking me? I don't know how you managed that."

"Dig in," Harry urged.

Happily complying, Draco picked up a fork and scooped up a bit of beans along with some pudding. Harry quickly threw some food on a plate and joined Draco at the table.

The pair ate quietly at first, savoring every bite. Harry noticed the small moans of pleasure Draco let out occasionally, distracting him from his own meal. It gratified him greatly to be the cause of such sounds. It also caused him to wonder what else Harry could do to make Draco moan.

"This is brilliant," Draco finally spoke. "If I had known you could cook like this, I would have had you chained to my kitchen all this time." He popped a rather large bite of pancake into his mouth and smiled with a closed mouth.

Harry sat, mouth gaping at the image in his head of being chained in Draco's kitchen.

"You all right?" Draco asked, speaking through his food. Something the Malfoy heir would normally never do.

"Uh, yeah," Harry answered, still trying to shake the imaginary vision from his head. "I'll cook for you anytime," he offered. "I'll do anything for you."

Draco's smile faltered. It didn't seem to be just banter. Harry sounded far too serious. Until then, Draco wasn't quite sure if the flirtation between them had been his imagination.

"Shit, it's almost time to open the shop," Draco exclaimed, glancing at the clock.

"It's okay. Mirabelle is down there getting ready to open," Harry told him. "I'll go down as soon as I clean up, so you can shower."

Draco was touched by the planning that went into his breakfast treat, if not a little apprehensive about Harry and Mirabelle running the shop without him for a while.

"Let me at least do the clean up," Draco said.

"No, no. You sit. More tea?" Draco shook his head and Harry stood to clear their plates. He picked the dishes up and carried them to the sink.

Draco got up and walked behind Harry, carrying the tea cups. "I can do it with magic. It's much quicker." He pulled out his wand and recited a cleaning spell on the pile of dirty china, silver, and pots and pans. He waved his wand and the food scraps disappeared, leaving nothing but a shine.

Harry gasped. "Amazing. I'll never get used to that. Where do they go again?" He was hyper-aware that Draco remained standing behind him.

"Plates down there." Draco pointed right, to a cabinet at the end. "Pans under here." He tapped the cabinet in front of Harry's legs. "And glasses up here."

Draco picked up a glass in one hand and opened the cabinet with the other. Harry hadn't bothered to move out of the way, so Draco reached around, leaning slightly into Harry's shoulder.

Harry abruptly turned in place and, rising up on the balls of his feet a bit, impulsively kissed Draco. He leaned back to assess Draco's reaction.

Though not upset by the kiss, Draco was nonetheless surprised. He had felt there was a growing connection between them, but he didn't know if Harry felt it as well. He didn't know for sure until that moment.

"I wasn't sure . . . are you gay?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't recall either way. But I like _you_." He looked up hopefully. "So, I guess, yeah."

Without another word, Harry leaned forward and kissed his former rival again. This time, Draco responded in kind, placing a hand on the small of Harry's back. The kiss was slow and gentle, their lips slightly parted, but no more.

They broke apart and both chuckled softly, feeling a bit giddy. Blushing, Draco suggested Harry go downstairs to help Mirabelle while he showered and dressed.

Harry could hardly concentrate throughout the day. His eyes were constantly drawn to the blond. All he could think about was the kiss. Kisses, actually. And more often than not, Draco had his eye on Harry. Each time one caught the other looking, they smiled coyly.

Mirabelle was beside herself with curiosity. She knew something was going on between them, but Harry kept mum about the details. Not that she couldn't guess, but she would loved to have found out exactly what it took to soften her boss's hard exterior.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

As they readied for bed, a bit later as they usually did on Tuesdays, Harry was disappointed that Draco would let the evening end without another kiss. It had been all Harry thought of through the work day. It was all he thought of during supper, clean up, and even their casual conversation afterward. Harry had been certain Draco would make some sort of move by bed time at least. When he didn't, Harry took matters into his own hands.

"You know, I still feel badly about taking your bed every night," Harry said as he slid between the cool satin sheets.

"I've already told you," Draco reminded him. "I'll not have a guest sleeping on a transfigured chair."

"Well, actually, I meant for you to share the bed. It's so large, another person could fit between us. See?" Harry moved to the edge to illustrate his point. "Why shouldn't you be more comfortable?"

Draco hesitated transfiguring the chair. Harry could see that he was considering it-that he wanted to, even.

"Please? I feel as though I've already put you out so much. It really would make me feel less guilty." Harry tried to maintain an expression somewhere between innocence and pleading.

It must have worked because Draco walked around to the other side of the bed and gingerly got into bed. Not daring to look at Harry, Draco lay on his back, about as far to the edge as he could get. He lay perfectly still and didn't begin to relax until Harry said good night.

"Good night," Draco answered back. "Nox."

For several minutes, they each lay silently, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Trying to act as though he'd fallen asleep, Draco stared at the dark ceiling. He felt the bed move and realized that Harry had rolled over and was slowly inching his way closer.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, illuminating the room just enough for Harry to see Draco in soft shadows and light. He had expected the blond to take advantage of the cover of darkness to make his move. But none was forthcoming. Harry scooted over close enough to touch shoulders with Draco.

"I want to be with you," Harry whispered. "I know you want to be with me, too. I saw the way you looked at me all day."

Without looking at Harry, Draco whispered back, "It's not a good idea."

"Why not?" Harry asked propping himself up on his elbow.

"I don't want to take advantage," Draco answered.

"How is it taking advantage? _I _kissed you. _ I_ invited you into the bed. I want to be with you."

Draco remained silent.

"Don't you want me?" Harry asked, his voice pleading.

His resolve crumbling, Draco turned toward Harry. "Yes," he breathed. He leaned in and kissed Harry passionately.

Harry pressed his body against Draco's, grinding his hips and humping Draco's leg with all the finesse of an eleven year old boy.

Draco pulled back. "Harry, have you ever done this? Have you ever had sex with a man?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, embarrassed.

"We should slow down," Draco smiled.

"No. I want you."

"Do you know what that even means?" Draco asked.

"I know that I want _something_." Harry searched for the right way to put it. "I want to touch you. And I want you to touch me. I _need_ you to touch me."

"We can touch," Draco said against his better judgement. "But I don't think you're ready for more than that."

Harry began to protest, but Draco's hand running down his back, and resting on his arse stopped him. They kissed while letting their hands roam. Draco tugged Harry's t-shirt up, and taking the hint, Harry broke away and lifted his arms for its removal.

Quickly following Draco's lead, Harry began to untie the string holding Draco's pajamas bottoms around his waist.

"I'll get that," Draco giggled lightly.

Harry grinned. "You're ticklish? I would never have guessed." He pulled down his own pajama bottoms under the covers and kicked them out the side and onto the floor. When he realized that both he and Draco were fully nude, Harry's stomach fluttered with nerves.

"Are you sure about this?" Draco asked, sensing Harry's trepidation.

"Yes," Harry nodded. "I'm not sure what exactly to do though."

Draco rolled into Harry and kissed his neck. "Just follow my lead."

Harry felt Draco's fingers brush his chest lightly, drawing circles on his skin. He reached up and did the same to Draco. As Draco's hand moved south, Harry's hand mimicked. Harry gasped at the feel of the hand closing around his hardened cock. He swallowed hard and mirrored Draco's actions again.

Feeling restricted by the sheets, Draco pulled them away, revealing Harry's taut, muscular frame. There was just enough moonlight coming through the window for Draco to appreciate the smooth contours of his chest and arms. Not to mention the size of the cock he was holding. He watched as he stroked Harry slowly, at first, then picked up the pace.

Harry groaned and arched his back. He forgot about stroking Draco and reveled in the feeling that was all at once familiar and new. His hips thrust into Draco's hand to get more, faster.

Admiring the expression on Harry's face, Draco didn't mind being temporarily neglected. The sounds coming from Harry's throat kept him at attention, patiently awaiting his turn.

Suddenly, Harry grabbed tightly onto Draco's arm.

"Oh shit," Harry panted. "Drake." His mouth dropped open and his body stiffened.

Harry came in short, hot spurts on the sheet and Draco's hand.

After his breathing slowed, Harry opened his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said apologetically. "I've made a mess." He couldn't meet Draco's eyes for the shame.

"Yes, you have," Draco grinned. He brought his hand up to his mouth and licked his fingers. "And it's delicious."

Harry's eyes went wide. "That was all right?"

"How did it feel?"

"Fucking brilliant," Harry answered, embarrassed.

"Then it was all right." Draco looked Harry in the eye. "You don't remember any of your previous sexual encounters, do you?" Draco chuckled. "I assume, at your age, you've had plenty."

"But if I don't remember, then, it's like you're my first."

That thought made Draco shudder. If they continued to pursue a relationship, there would be many more 'firsts' for Harry. The prospect of being responsible for them excited Draco.

His hand subconsciously began rubbing his still hard cock.

"Oh, God. I'm sorry," Harry cried. "I should be doing that."

"There isn't anything you _should_ be doing," Draco said.

"I want to."

Draco moved his hand away and let Harry take over. His movements were jerky, and at times Harry gripped a bit too tightly, but his enthusiasm made it easy to overlook. Draco relaxed and lay on his back, while Harry hovered over him, pumping his fist wildly, a hard look of concentration on his face.

"Harry," Draco whispered. "It's not a race," he chuckled softly.

"Right." Harry slowed his movements and took a deep breath. He had been thinking about this man for weeks and now that he finally had gotten him where he wanted, he wasn't even enjoying it. Harry looked at Draco lying next to him with the soft moonlight washing over his incredibly fit body. "What else should I do?"

Draco opened his eyes and gave a small smile. "You can do whatever you'd like."

Harry swallowed. He leaned down and took Draco's bottom lip between his own. Draco's hand came up to clutch at Harry's hair as he returned the kiss. Once Harry calmed down, both of them began to enjoy the experience much more.

While his hand continued to leisurely stroke, Harry kissed and sucked at Draco's neck, then his collar bone, and shoulder. Draco smelled clean and musky, a combination of his soap, his cologne and his natural scent. But he tasted slightly salty. Harry proceeded downward until he reached an erect nipple.

Draco moaned as Harry licked and flicked his tongue. His hips thrust gently upward into Harry hand.

"Oh, yeah," Draco said quietly. "That's good."

Encouraged by Draco's words, Harry picked up the pace. He smiled as Draco writhed beneath him, his soft moans becoming more frequent.

"Harry, I'm gonna cum," Draco warned.

Harry leaned back a bit. The first jet streamed up high enough to hit Harry's chest. It startled him and he let go of Draco's cock and moved further back. He watched as Draco grabbed hold of himself to finish the job.

One last groan, and Draco released himself and grinned at Harry.

"It started out a bit rough, but that was great for your first hand job."

"What? Oh, yeah." Harry furrowed his brow. "I wonder if it really was, or if I just don't remember."

"Does it matter?" Draco asked.

"No," Harry shook his head. "It doesn't. This is what I want now."

"Me too," Draco said and pulled Harry down into a kiss.

They moved to their sides, Harry spooning Draco, after Draco performed a cleaning spell. Harry couldn't recall if he'd done that with anyone else before, but he knew it was how he wanted to spend every night from then on.

Draco pulled the sheet back up over them and placed his hand on top of the arm draped across his body. A smile lingered on his face as he recalled the events of the evening. It had been a long time-too long-since he kept the company of a man overnight. But this was no ordinary man. And Draco was dangerously close to getting in over his head.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭


	6. high up above or down below ch 6

***Well, based on the recent notification, I'm wondering how long they're going to let us keep some of our stories on the site. I don't know why they're being such prudes. If so many of us like writing and reading graphic stories, isn't it good for the site? Oh, well. I'll just keep writing and reading until they make me stop. Then I'll find a new place to get it.**

**Ironically, this chapter contains just the sort of thing that Fanfiction frowns upon LOL**

**BloodyRose90- Don't worry, there _will_ be angst!**

**The Angel Redemption- LMAO- jizz flies to China- that killed me! I like to mix things up a little, so Harry's not a super-shooter in this one. btw, thanks for adding my stories to your C2**

**HPfan29- It will be a few chapters before Harry gets his memory back. Hope I didn't give too much away.**

**FantasyFiend09- Yeah, I hope it's not too weird. Harry doesn't have the actual memories of being older than 11, but he has the body and hormones of a man. And he's 'growing up' quickly being with Draco and working in the shop.**

**ClaireBouldwin- I know you were probably hoping for more than what's in this chapter. But the story is concentrating mostly on Harry and Draco's relationship. But at least you'll see some other characters here.**

**Thanks to greeneyed-angiebaby, cyiusblack, Clary girl two, Thana Bielefield, cassy1994, da-blk-sayangirl, DracoMalfoyIsMyLionI'mHisLamb for reading and reviewing!**

**disclaimer: JK Rowling gets all the credit and money for these characters (except Mirabelle) and I can't even take credit for making them gay, as thousands of other people have done that too! And I'm certain there are tons of stories in which Harry loses his memory. So, yeah, all I can take credit for is Mirabelle.**

**p.s. I REALLY try to do my research and spell things correctly. But I do occasionally make mistakes. Please forgive me, as this is meant only to be entertainment. And a little suspended disbelief goes a long way.**

* * *

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day thirty-three, Thursday

Ron stormed into his office and kicked his desk before sitting forcefully into his chair.

"Fucking morons," he muttered to himself.

A moment later, Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared in his doorway. "I take it things didn't go well in Brazil."

"No," Ron snorted. "They had him. They bloody had him in custody."

"What happened?"

"They claimed they couldn't keep him any longer without charging him with a crime. I was two hours too late." Ron slammed his fist on his desk. "It took two weeks to track him down from Porto Alegre to São Luís. Now he could be anywhere. I'm sure he's left the country."

Kingsley sat down in the chair across from Ron.

"Duncan can't hide forever. His face is plastered in every wizarding city in the world by now. We'll have him soon."

"But Harry doesn't have time to spare. We have to find out what Duncan did to him before he forgets permanently. Right now, he's our best chance of finding Harry."

Shacklebolt nodded. "Yes, I know. All we can do is keep looking." He smiled, the reassuring smile that put people at ease and made him a popular Minister of Magic. "I have every confidence in you, Ron."

"Thank you, sir. I won't give up."

"I know you won't. That's why you're on the case."

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day thirty-four, Friday

The bell chiming over the door had become like a Pavlovian prompt for Harry. He made his way to the front of the shop, smile on his face, ready to greet whomever was there. The striking man that stood before him was not a regular customer. At least not one that Harry had seen in his month working there.

"Welcome to the Dragon's Lair. How may I help you?"

The man snorted and rolled his eyes. "Is business that poor that Draco has his staff kissing _my_ arse?"

"Excuse me?" Harry frowned.

"Where is the wanker, anyway?"

Harry let out a grunt. "If you're speaking about Mr. Malfoy, he is with an important customer at the moment," he said through gritted teeth. "I would happy to assist you."

Harry didn't know how Draco found it so easy to be cordial to prats like this man. He was seething with anger over the man's insults.

"Ah, I see him," The dark man peered across the room on tip toes.

Harry stepped in front of him, blocking his way. "I told you, Mr. Malfoy is busy."

"Sod off!" the man said as he pushed Harry's shoulder.

"Blaise! Be nice." Draco's voice sounded from behind Harry. He put a gentle hand on the glamoured man's shoulder. "It's all right, Redmond. This twat is my best friend."

Of course, Draco must have had friends, Harry thought. But he'd never seen or heard about them.

Blaise looked Harry up and down. "Got yourself a new lapdog, eh Malfoy?" he laughed. "I must say, this one looks to be a mutt compared to your usual purebloods."

Harry clenched his jaw and his fists. He remained quiet, however, not wanting to embarrass Draco.

Ignoring Blaise's observation, Draco addressed Harry. "Would you mind finishing up with Mrs. Wigginton? Her items just need to be rung up." Though Draco asked, he was really telling Harry.

"Of course," Harry returned. He tried not to glare at Blaise, and walked to the counter where Mrs. Wigginton was inspecting her goods.

Blaise laughed out loud when Harry was barely out of earshot. "He's a feisty one. Where'd you find him?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You're judging the company I keep, after some of the tarts you've had?"

"Well, you've been hiding him, so you must think he's below your usual standard."

"On the contrary. He's a diamond in the rough." Draco abruptly changed the subject. "So what brings you here? Looking for freebies?"

"You've ignored two owled messages," Blaise pouted. "I had a party for Pansy's birthday last weekend and you didn't show. It's pretty bad when the town pariah snubs your party."

"Oh, shit, I forgot Pansy's birthday," Draco swore. "I reckon she's pissed off at me. But I've been busy."

"Busy with your little friend?"

Both men turned to look in Harry's direction, who was handing Mrs. Wigginton her bags with a smile. He saw Draco watching and his smile grew, until he glanced at Blaise. Then he frowned.

"Merlin, it's worse than I thought," Blaise snickered. "You actually _like_ this one."

Draco glared at Blaise but didn't otherwise respond.

"Oh, Draco, don't tell me you're in-"

"Shut up, Zabini. Don't even think about finishing that sentence."

"He's not very pretty. He looks a bit like Pansy."

"It's not about looks," Draco said indignantly.

"With you it is. You always have the finest eye candy. Usually someone with striking eyes, like . . . " Blaise trailed off.

"Like what?"

"Never mind." Blaise narrowed his eyes. "Something's not right. This Redmond isn't your typical submissive. He doesn't seem intimidated by you. Or anyone else, by the way he treated me."

"No, he isn't. In fact, he's somewhat aggressive." Draco's eyes traveled to where Harry was busy with another customer. "I like that," he said quietly.

"Hmm. Never thought I'd see the day when Draco Malfoy submitted," Blaise joked.

"What?" Draco snapped out of his daydream. "I won't submit. He will."

"Will? Bloody Hell, you haven't even fucked him yet? What's happened to you mate?"

"Nothing's happened to me," Draco said. "I'm tired of one offs. I want something more."

"But with him?" Blaise jerked a thumb in Harry's direction. "Is he even a pure blood? I've never heard of the Redmond family."

"I told you. He's a diamond in the rough. If you knew . . ."

"If I knew what?"

"If you could see him the way I do, you'd understand." Draco didn't mean that in a flowery, metaphorical way. He meant it literally. He wanted so badly to tell Blaise all that happened. Draco was exceptionally good at keeping secrets, but it was killing him not to be able to tell his best friend that he'd managed to snag _**the**_ wizard of their generation.

Blaise stared at him for a moment, making Draco feel slightly uncomfortable.

"You're hiding something," Blaise finally said. "And it's not just your little piece of arse over there."

Mirabelle approached the pair. She nodded an acknowledgement to Blaise.

"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy. Harry and I will be taking our lunch now, if that's all right. Unless you want me to stay on the floor while you continue your conversation."

"No. Go ahead and take lunch."

Mirabelle waved Harry to the back of the shop as she walked away.

"His name is Harry? You're dating someone named _Harry_? Isn't that a bit . . . bizarre?"

"Well, I didn't name him," Draco said. Technically, it wasn't a lie, as Harry had come up with Redmond himself, though it was Draco's suggestion to change it.

"Still," Blaise began. A slow smile formed on his dark, thick lips. "I can't imagine calling out the name of my childhood rival's name in the throes of passion. Or maybe that's what makes it so exciting. I always thought you secretly had a thing for Potter."

"I did not," Draco said, with feigned indignation.

"Whatever, mate," Blaise snickered. "I think it's ironic that this fellow you seem so smitten with shares an uncommon name with someone you supposedly hated. And he's about the same age."

"What are you getting at?"

"Nothing," Blaise shrugged. He had never come right out and said it, for fear of being hexed to Timbuktu, but Zabini had noticed over the years that Draco definitely had a type. Perhaps it was difficult to tell if you took Draco's lovers individually. However, looking at them on the whole, they each shared at least one physical trait with Potter. Most were dark haired. Some possessed brilliant eyes that rivaled the hero's. And they were usually of a similar build. One bloke looked so much like him, Blaise did a double take upon seeing them at supper together. The difference between the facsimiles and Harry Potter was that they were passive and easily dominated by Draco.

Redmond was a puzzle with one or two pieces that didn't quite fit. He didn't look like the others, but a glamour could account for that. And he was bold. In a way, he reminded Blaise of Potter, the way he would defend his friends. He stood up to Blaise, regardless that he was outclassed in both height and weight. Not Draco's typical toy.

Blaise chuckled to himself at even entertaining the thought that somehow Redmond was really Harry Potter. Even if Draco did admit his boyhood crush, what on Earth would Potter be doing with Draco, disguised as someone else? Zabini literally shook his head at the absurdity of it.

"What's funny now?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"For a second, I had this crazy notion that your cupcake was really Potter putting one over on you."

Draco's eyes widened. _Fuck!_ he thought. Then he decided to do the only thing he could think of. He forced himself to laugh hysterically and clapped Blaise on the back.

"Do you hear yourself?"

"I know," Blaise laughed right along with Draco. "I just let my imagination get away with me. Listen, I've got to go. I only came to warn you about Pansy's wrath."

"I'll send a nice gift. That ought to soften the blow."

"Better make it something extravagant," Blaise joked. Except he wasn't really joking. Pansy would demand an expensive gift as recompense for missing her party.

"We'll get together soon. I'll owl you," Draco said as he directed Blaise toward the front door. He wanted to get rid of him before Harry came back out and the wheels in Blaise's head started turning again.

Blaise snickered. "No, you won't. Not as long as you have your little boy toy. Oh well, enjoy it while you've got it."

His friend walked out, leaving Draco standing at the door thinking about how close Blaise was to finding out his secret.

Draco had been keeping too many secrets lately. It was wearing on him. After the secrets he was forced to keep while in school, particularly Sixth Year, he vowed to live his life as honestly as possible. He owned up to his misdeeds and was absolved as far as the Ministry courts were concerned. Since then, he had lived with a clear conscience, as a hard-working, scrupulous businessman. Until Harry walked into his shop and put himself at Draco's mercy.

Nearly every day, Draco vowed to gather the courage to tell Harry the whole truth. But every evening, he lost the nerve, afraid of losing something he never realized he wanted.

Later, at the end of the day, Harry approached Draco.

"Drake, I'm sorry about the way I treated your friend. I had no idea."

"It's all right. Blaise can be a prick sometimes."

"Still," Harry hung his head. "I was rude to a customer. There's no excuse for that. What if he hadn't been your friend?"

"Then I suppose he would have left without purchasing anything, which he did anyway," Draco shrugged.

"But he called you a wanker."

"Did he?" Draco laughed. "Well, I guess I don't need punters that call me names in my establishment. I get enough of that on the outside. No harm done Harry."

"So, you're not angry with me?"

Draco put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You stood up for me. Do you know how few people have done that?"

Harry gazed up at Draco, more adoringly than ever.

"I'll always stand up for you."

Forgetting himself, Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry. It was just a small, gentle kiss. It may as well have been an all out snogging session as far as the Potion Master was concerned. The lack of decorum he'd just displayed in his own place of business was not something he would expect to see in any of the establishments he frequented. He blushed furiously.

Harry beamed at the gesture.

A throat cleared. "Shall I close out the register?" Mirabelle asked innocently, as if she hadn't seen the kiss.

"Uh, yes, thank you," Draco replied, unable to look her in the eye.

"I'll make sure the herb drawers are in order," Harry offered.

Draco smoothed out his robes. "I have a potion to attend." He walked into the back room, leaving Harry and Mirabelle alone in the shop.

"Merlin's beard! What did you do to him?" Mirabelle squealed.

"What? I didn't do anything," Harry protested.

"Yes, you did something wonderful to him," she answered. "I told you you'd be good for him. Oh, Harry, I think he's really falling for you."

"You think so?"

"I've seen Mr. Malfoy with a few of his young men," Mirabelle said. "But never any displays of affection. He usually acts so proper. Until you, that is."

Harry smiled. He'd had experiences with Draco that were firsts for him, that he could recall. He liked being a first for Draco in something.

But still lacking confidence in the romance department, Harry confided, "I don't know. It seems like I'm the one who . . ." Harry was trying to put it delicately. "Um, gets amorous first." He blushed. "If he really liked me, wouldn't he make a move once in a while?"

Mirabelle smiled sympathetically. "Don't be discouraged, Harry. I can see the way he looks at you. You're breaking down that wall he puts up to protect himself. He'll come 'round."

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day thirty-eight, Tuesday

In the weeks following their first night spent together in the same bed, Draco didn't bother transfiguring the chair. There was no point pretending they both didn't want to spend every night wrapped up in one another's arms. Draco had resisted Harry's charms for as long as he could, but once the brunet made his intentions clear that night, Draco was uncharacteristically besotted.

More nights than not, Harry made his way to Draco's side of the bed and tempted him with kisses and caresses until both were left spent and satisfied. Draco, it seemed, had a never-ending repertoire for bringing their evenings to a climax, even without technically consummating their relationship.

One night, four days following Blaise's visit, Draco turned the tables. He had been moved by Harry's defense of him. He had inadvertently overheard the end of Harry's conversation with Mirabelle and wanted to show his own enthusiasm for their relationship. Before Harry had even finished settling into bed, Draco hovered over him.

"I bought some things," he grinned. He could barely contain himself at the prospect of using the items in question.

His interest piqued, Harry asked, "What? What did you buy? By the look on your face, I'd say it must be something naughty."

Draco flushed lightly. "Decidedly so. Are you game?"

"Didn't I tell you I'd do anything for you?"

Pausing to notice the serious tone in Harry's voice and earnest expression on his face, Draco could tell that Harry's feelings were more than casual. If he could be honest with himself he would have admitted that he knew Harry was falling in love with him. If he hadn't already. And if he could indulge in a bit more honesty, he would have realized that he was falling for Harry just as hard.

Ignoring the thoughts trying to surface to consciousness, Draco _Accioed_ a bag from a store down the alley from The Dragon's Lair. It was a nondescript bag from a nondescript store- until one went inside. The shop itself was no bigger than Draco's flat and was covered from wall to wall with items of a sexual nature of one kind or another. Rather embarrassed to be walking in, Draco had placed a glamour on himself to make his purchases. A very busty witch in a tight black leather corset had been very helpful in guiding Draco through the myriad items, most of which he had never seen before.

Sensing that he was new to the world of 'toys', the woman steered him away from anything too hard core. Instead, she suggested he start simply, with a pair of easily escapable handcuffs and a dildo that rivaled Harry's cock for size.

Harry reached into the bag and took out one of the accessories for Tickle Your Fancy.

"Are these handcuffs? Are you planning to lock me up?" he teased.

Draco laughed. "Don't worry. They open with a wandless _Alohomora._" The cuffs opened on command. "They had others that were a bit more complicated." He paused seeing the look of apprehension on Harry's face. "We don't have to use these. We'll work our way up."

"No. It makes me a little nervous but I'm willing," Harry admitted. "I trust you Drake."

He truly did. And Draco felt guilty about it, unsure if he trusted Harry the same way. He trusted Harry Redmond completely, but he had reservations about trusting Potter. Someday, that trust would be tested.

"What the bloody Hell is this?" Harry asked, holding up a large phallus shaped object. "Do we really need a third one of these?"

"Ah, but this one does something ours don't," Draco replied.

He grabbed his wand and touched it to the lifeless piece of plastic. It began to vibrate in Harry's hand, eliciting a wide grin.

"I can see how this could be fun."

They quickly stripped, eager to get started. Harry lay back on the bed while Draco clasped one of the cuffs to his left wrist. He threaded the other end through the wrought iron head board and took Harry's right hand. By the time the other cuff clicked closed, Draco was fully aroused.

"Are you all right?" he asked the bound man.

"If just putting them on gets you this excited, I can't wait to see what happens when you use that other thing," Harry grinned.

Still nervous at being chained up, Harry remained flaccid, but eager for Draco to remedy that.

"You are about the hottest sight I've ever seen," Draco breathed. "I can't believe you're mine." He leaned forward and kissed Harry.

Harry's hands were stopped short on their way to Draco's blond tresses. Harry groaned in protest.

"I am yours," Harry said when they pulled apart. "All yours."

Draco wanted to reciprocate the sentiment. However, he couldn't allow himself to be that vulnerable. The hypocrisy was not lost on him. He knew the moment he gave himself completely to Harry Redmond, he would open himself up to the possible rejection by Harry Potter. Even after all the time spent together, Draco still thought of them as separate. Eventually, Harry would become whole, and he simply didn't know which Harry would prevail.

So, for the time being, Draco allowed himself the luxury of a friend and lover in Harry. He was going to make the most of it. And for the time being, Harry would have to be satisfied with Draco's actions speaking for words he couldn't bring himself to say.

Draco took the last item out of the bag- a small bottle of lubricating oil. He poured some into his palm and rubbed his hands together. Taking Harry's waking cock, he coated it thoroughly in the lightly leather scented oil. Then he did the same to himself.

Harry watched as Draco picked up the phallus and set it once again to vibrate.

"What are you going to do with that?" Harry asked. He was so anxious with anticipation that he was nearly drooling. Yet he was nervous at the prospect of the intrusion for which the toy was obviously intended.

"I thought I'd give you a massage," Draco leered.

He began to rub the dildo gently up and down Harry's now fully erect cock. Harry's back arched involuntarily and he let out a shuddered sigh.

"Oh, that feels good." He closed his eyes and let his head drop back. His arms hung loosely above him in the cuffs leaving him vulnerable to anything Draco may wish to do to him. And there was much Draco wished to do to him.

Relaxing further, Harry let his legs fall to the sides, exposing him even more. He trusted Draco implicitly and it showed.

Draco ran the vibrating accessory over Harry's taut body. He experimented until he found the places, besides the most obvious, that Harry enjoyed being touched. His left nipple was particularly sensitive, along with the back of his right knee. Draco found the latter to be a surprise, not to mention useful information for future encounters. He was most surprised, pleasantly, that Harry didn't flinch nearly as expected when Draco ran the toy over his virgin hole. At least Harry thought it had been untouched.

By this time, Draco was aching with need of relief. It had been even more of a turn on to watch as he pleasured Harry than he thought possible.

"Merlin, Harry. I could explode just looking at you."

He lay the vibrator off to the side and hovered over his lover, kissing him on his neck and chest. The position placed the head of his cock at Harry's bollocks. They touched, sending a spark of pleasure straight through Draco.

"Gods I want to fuck you so badly," he whispered.

"Drake?" Harry's voice was small, lost in the passion.

"I just . . . need . . ." Draco groaned out.

Seeking some relief from the pressure, Draco ground gently against Harry. He slid his cock past Harry's bollocks, between his slightly spread cheeks. He simply sought the friction he needed. He was moments away from climaxing when Harry began to protest.

"Drake, wait." Harry writhed a bit, but it only served to bring Draco closer to completion. "Stop. I'm not ready."

Not realizing that Draco had no intention of entering him, Harry began to struggle against the manacles.

"Please stop." Harry tried to pull his hands out of the cuffs in a panic. Draco had desisted and was leaning back on his heels trying to calm Harry.

"I'm not. I wasn't . . . Harry calm down."

Yanking as hard as he could in the handcuffs, Harry yelled, "Get them off!"

"Harry, you're going to hurt yourself." Draco put his hands on Harry's shoulders in an effort to keep him from thrashing about.

"_Alohomora_," Draco said quickly. The cuffs immediately opened, releasing Harry's bruised hands.

Draco hugged Harry to himself. "I'm sorry. I wasn't going to do it." He rocked them both together on the bed while Harry clung to him.

"I just panicked. I don't know why," Harry said. "I know you would never hurt me. But I felt so . . . "

"No, no. It was my fault. I forgot you couldn't open the cuffs yourself. I should have known better. Are you all right?"

Nodding against Draco's shoulder, Harry began to relax.

"I'm fine. I don't know what came over me. I felt helpless."

"We can just lie here together until we fall asleep if you'd like," Draco said, easing them down to a reclining position.

"What? But we didn't even . . . you know, finish."

Draco was dumbfounded. "You want to continue?" He noticed that neither he nor Harry were aroused any longer.

Blushing, Harry replied, "But I'm still randy. And I'd like to use that thing on you." He pointed to the dildo.

"We won't use the cuffs. At least not on you," Draco laughed.

"Okay," Harry said. "But maybe we can skip them altogether for now. I have another idea."

Though surprised by Harry's quick recovery, Draco wasn't about to turn him down. He had been painfully close to cumming and being denied left him frustrated.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"Do you have a rope or a scarf or something?" Harry questioned. "Something you don't really mind getting messy."

"In my top drawer," Draco answered, curious what the Gryffindor had in mind. He didn't want to use handcuffs, but it sounded as if he wanted to tie Draco up anyway.

Harry jumped off the bed and went to the dresser. He rooted around, then pulled out a green tie.

"Can I use this?"

It was Draco's old Slytherin tie. It did have some sentimental value, but he told Harry he could use it nonetheless. He wondered if Harry's subconscious was drawn to it.

Frowning, Harry looked down at Draco's lap. He would have to do something about that before he could carry out his idea.

He straddled Draco's legs and kissed him. Before long, or too much encouragement, both boys were ready to try again.

"Lie down," Harry ordered playfully. Draco did as he was told. He leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head, expecting Harry to use the vibrator in the same manner as he had.

Harry took the phallus and held it to Draco's cock. Draco reached over to get his wand in order to turn it on.

"Not yet," Harry said. "I'll tell you when."

Taking the Slytherin tie, Harry wound it around Draco's cock and the dildo together. He fastened the end when he was finished.

"Okay," Harry grinned. "You can turn it on now."

Draco swallowed, and touched his wand to his bound package.

"Oh, shit," he gasped.

"Do you like it?" Harry asked enthusiastically.

"Oh, yeah. I like it," Draco breathed.

"Good. And we still have all our hands free," Harry pointed out.

"Then I'd better get started on you. I'm not sure how long I'm going to last." Draco got on all fours and pushed Harry onto his back. Harry's cock stood straight up, inviting Draco to take it into his mouth, which he did.

Draco ran his hands up and down Harry's taut skin, occasionally pausing on one of the sensitive spots he'd discovered earlier. While he sucked and swirled his tongue around Harry's hard on, the vibrator was deliciously teasing his own. Every so often, it brought him so close, he thought he might cum, only to have the feeling wane again. He found it extremely arousing, and it gave him time to bring Harry close to climaxing as well.

Meanwhile, Harry had been watching Draco's head bob up and down, revealing and concealing his own hardened dick. His fingers threaded through the fine blond tresses. Now and then, Draco would pause and whimper softly, and Harry thought he had cum. But he got glimpses of Draco's cock wrapped in green stripes as he moved, still relatively dry. Deciding to hurry along the process, Harry reached down and pinched the blond's nipples, then lightly raked them with his short fingernails.

Draco's mouth popped off Harry suddenly.

"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum this time."

"Move up. Cum on me," Harry said as he tugged at Draco's arms.

Draco moved so he hovered over Harry just in time. His cock, with dildo attached, bobbed wildly as he came, spewing cum in all directions. Harry watched, in awe, the seemingly never-ending streams. He had never seen Draco cum so much or so forcefully. It excited him enough to put him on the very edge.

With the phallus still vibrating, and though he was ultra sensitive at that point, Draco dipped down low to press their cocks together. The quivering motion sent Harry shooting all over his own stomach and chest.

"That was . . . that was . . . " Harry was at a loss for words as he panted.

Before collapsing on the bed, Draco grabbed his wand and turned off the contraption still tied to him.

"I don't know if it was the vibrator, or having to hold off earlier, or a combination of the two, but that was the most intense . . . you _have_ to try that," Draco said breathlessly, grinning. He felt exhilarated. "That was bloody brilliant. _You're_ bloody brilliant." He leaned over and gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek.

Harry giggled. He couldn't recall seeing Draco with his walls so far down. He was always in control, even during the most passionate of moments. Harry's heart leapt at the thought that perhaps Draco was beginning to feel for him as deeply as he felt for Draco.


	7. get what you want, but not what you need

***I just want to say how cool I think it is that there are so many readers from other countries here on Fanfiction. I got a pm from someone in Brazil and it made my day (in addition to the reviews!) It's impressive to me how many people in non-English speaking countries can speak and read English. I looked up my story stats and found that there are even readers from Iceland, Turkey, Pakistan and Croatia. Who knew? Anyway thank you, gracias, merci, Þakka þér fyrir, arigato, danke, hvala, etc. Sorry if I totally butchered some of those.**

**QuirkyKitty93- yes, toys are a good thing ;) I'm not sure if they'll make another appearance though**

**BloodyRose90- aw, what a nice compliment!**

**WitchRavenFox- Sorry that it's confusing. Actually, that's how Draco feels about the whole thing, too. I look at it like his defense mechanism. He needs to protect his heart, so he can't completely give in to his feelings, the way Harry has. p.s. Hermione was in the shop, but only saw Harry briefly, and she doesn't know Draco well.**

**FantasyFiend09- I don't plan on leaving Fanfiction. I like it here, as long as they don't pull stories. I don't have my Drarry stories anywhere but here. I attribute Harry's panic to his subconscious fears of being helpless, not specifically being at Draco's mercy.**

**Mr. Buster- Happy Birthday! and Thanks!**

**anon- you don't have to fucking read my fucking story if you don't fucking like it. alwaysZutarian writes ATLA. I'm not sure what the fuck that has to do with this story, but if you're frustrated with her-tell her, not me. I happen to like her stories very much**

**Thanks to DracoIsMyLionI'mHisLamb, cassy1994 and xSingleXdrarryXShipper2x for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day forty-five, Tuesday

"I told you, I don't know where he is. And even if I did, why should I tell you?"

Draco glared at the stout man. Having a fair bit of height, plus being a former Death Eater, came in handy sometimes.

"Because if you don't, I'll curse your knob so hard you'll be pissing out your nose."

The man visibly shrunk at the threat. "I'm tellin' ya, I don't know where he is now."

"Then where was Duncan last? Tell me that," Draco demanded.

"I ain't heard from my cousin in months. He was in Germany last I heard, working for some guy, making potions."

"Who?"

"I, I don't know."

Draco's wand lowered, pointing at the man's crouch.

"But I can find out," the man quickly added. "My aunt must know."

"Find out, Bloxham" Draco told him. "And be subtle about it. I don't want anyone getting suspicious."

Duncan's cousin nodded in compliance.

"Do as I ask and the Auror's office won't be getting an anonymous tip about your little smuggling operation," Draco said. He couldn't believe that he was now stooping to blackmail on top of lying. The lengths to which he was willing to go to help Harry surprised him. Harry was completely turning his life upside down. And Draco was letting him.

"I'll be back next week."

"I'll have the information for you," Bloxham promised.

Draco left Bloxham and his broom shop, confident that he would soon be able to track down Nazar Duncan and be one step closer to helping Harry get his memory back. The grin on his face faded. He would also be one step closer to judgement day. The day he would find out if his relationship with Harry could survive the truth.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day forty-seven, Thursday

"Drake?"

"Hm?"

"Never mind."

Draco rolled over in bed to face Harry, even though the room was too dark to really see him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Harry answered. "I was only wondering why you haven't done anything more about getting my memory back."

"But I am," Draco explained. "I'm still doing research. From what I've read, I could make it worse if I don't know what I'm doing."

Harry remained silent in the dark.

"I'm still trying, Harry. You believe me, don't you?"

"Of course. I just thought . . . maybe you forgot."

"I'm not _you_," Draco joked. He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Harry. "I'm only kidding. I made a promise to help you restore your memories, and I'm going to keep it."

"What if you can't?"

"I don't know. I guess we'll figure that out once I've exhausted our options. But I'm not giving up yet," Draco said. "I didn't want to get your hopes up in case I find out the research doesn't pan out."

"Okay."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Draco asked.

"Yeah," Harry laughed nervously. "I guess I'm just a little anxious about remembering some things."

"Like the war?" Draco asked.

"That, and us not getting along."

"It'll be all right, Harry," Draco reassured him. "I remember everything, and I'm still here with you." He kissed Harry's forehead and smoothed out his hair.

"How?"

"People change."

That was exactly what Harry was afraid of.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day forty-eight, Friday

The room was silent as Harry and Draco each read in opposite corners of the flat after supper. Harry preferred to sit in the window seat, not realizing that it was probably a habit he picked up while at Hogwarts. Draco sat with his legs drawn up on the chair he used to transfigure before he and Harry began sharing the bed.

That had begun several weeks prior. And though they spent many active nights together, they hadn't taken the biggest step. Not that they didn't want to. Harry hinted around. More than hinted, he'd speak of it as an inevitability. But Draco, knowing that he'd already gone much farther into the relationship than he should have without complete honesty, procrastinated. It was disguised as patience and understanding, which only endeared him to Harry even more.

The former Gryffindor looked up from his book. It was another romantic tome about star-crossed lovers. This book, however, was a bit more graphic in the details of the lovers' relationship, and it quickly put Harry in the mood.

He watched Draco as he read, unaware of Harry's gaze. His white blond hair was getting longer in the front and the fringe kept falling into his eyes. Draco gently swiped them aside, only to have them fall slowly back down every few minutes.

Harry thought about how quickly he had gone from feeling like a lost boy to a young man thanks to the man across the room. He would hardly describe himself as independent, as he was still very much reliant on Draco. But the freedom he experienced made him feel more and more like the twenty-four year old he was.

In comparison, Draco seemed vastly more mature. Harry greatly admired him for his accomplishments. He was a business owner, a Potions Master, and far more experienced in the matters of love.

Love.

Harry wondered if that was what he was feeling for Draco. He knew that he enjoyed very much the physical aspects of their relationship. And he enjoyed the quiet times as well, like strolling down the Alley hand in hand on their way to supper at one of the cafes. But he thought what he almost looked forward to the most, was lying in Draco's arms late at night talking about their day or making plans for their next day off.

The couple in the book he was reading were deeply in love. They shared similar times to him and Draco. And they were described as having 'butterflies every time they touched'.

Harry was getting butterflies just watching Draco read.

"Drake?"

"Hm?" Draco replied without looking up.

"I think I'm ready."

"What?" Draco asked absentmindedly. He glanced up. "You're ready?"

Harry nodded.

"Ready for what?"

"I want you to make love to me."

Draco shut his book and gaped at Harry. It was about the last thing he expected to hear, though he shouldn't have been completely taken by surprise. They had been slowly progressing to that point. And Harry had subtly, or not so subtly alluded to it. He hadn't, however, come right out and requested it before.

Truthfully, Draco had been just as nervous as Harry, obviously for different reasons. Many men passed through Draco's young life. He wasn't ashamed of having an abundance of lovers, most of whom were one offs. He was always in control, but never felt as though he were making love to any of them. Not that it wasn't equally enjoyable. He preferred the lack of commitment anyway. He preferred not to have someone shake up his life, the way Harry did. It scared Draco how easily he let Harry entrench himself into his private world. It alarmed him how much he wanted to make love to Harry.

"Drake? Did you hear me?"

"Yes," Draco tried to say. Only a squeak came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes. Are you . . . are you certain?"

"Absolutely. I want you to make love to me." Harry swallowed. "Now."

Draco tossed his book aside, got up and picked up his wand.

"_Incendio_." He lit several candles about the room. He made the lamps go out. The place was instantly transformed into a romantic sanctuary.

"Come here," Draco bade.

Slowly, Harry rose from the window seat and walked to his lover.

Holding Harry's gaze, Draco began to unbutton his shirt. He slid the fabric from Harry's shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Next, he unbuckled the belt holding Harry's trousers up, and slipped the button from its hole.

Harry shuddered in anticipation. He wanted to rip off his clothes, then do the same to Draco. But he restrained himself, letting the other man set the pace.

The pace Draco set was teasingly slow. He wanted to savor every moment. When Harry stood only in his well filled pants, Draco began to undress himself. Harry couldn't resist helping a little bit and removed the shirt.

As soon as Draco's trousers hit the floor, Harry pounced on him, pushing him backwards onto the bed. Harry briefly wondered if he was always so aggressive, or if it was his reaction to Draco that brought it out. It made no difference, Harry's mouth was on Draco's as he lay on top of him, grinding his hips.

A hand gripped Harry's hair, while the other one slipped into his pants and squeezed his arse. There were few good places for Harry to grab in his current position, so he rolled to his side, careful not to lose the contact of Draco's strategically placed hand.

Having free access, Harry rubbed the growing bulge in Draco's pants with the heel of his hand.

Draco groaned, spurring Harry on to move faster and harder. He'd had enough of the fabric separating them, and Harry pulled down Draco's pants, using his foot to push them all the way off. Then he tore off his own, taking Draco's hand and putting it back on his arse. He spread his legs slightly to allow better access. Draco happily took advantage.

"_Accio _oil," Draco said, catching the bottle mid-flight.

He poured some on his finger tips and ran his fingers down Harry's opening. Though he had previously teased the sensitive hole, he hadn't put more than half a finger inside. Draco knew if he was going to make love to Harry properly, he would have to prepare him with at least two, preferably three, fingers all in.

"Are you ready?"

"So ready," Harry answered.

"I'm going to need to use my fingers first," Draco said gently. "I'll try not to hurt you."

"You would never hurt me."

"Not intentionally," Draco replied honestly. His words carried a double meaning. Clearly he was speaking of the present situation, about not hurting Harry physically. But he was also alluding to the future, when Draco's actions may hurt Harry emotionally. He hesitated briefly. Then, like debris in a river, he was swept away, his body seemingly moving of its own accord.

Harry cringed as the first finger, generously lubricated, slid in. He relaxed as it wasn't painful as he expected.

"All right?" Draco asked, concerned.

Harry nodded. "It's okay. You can keep going."

Draco carefully and slowly added another finger. He felt Harry tense a bit, then relax again. Forging ahead, Draco added a third finger, stroking in and out stretching Harry to accommodate his waiting cock.

"I think I'm ready for you," Harry said quietly.

Draco's fingers slipped out, leaving Harry feeling empty. He poured more lube on his cock and tossed the bottle aside. He took a hold of himself and guided his cock between Harry's wide spread legs. At first tight, Harry's opening allowed Draco to slip inside. Because of the oil, or perhaps Harry's previous experiences, Draco pushed in to the hilt more quickly than either of them expected.

Harry groaned loudly.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered. "I was expecting a little more resistance."

Harry chuckled softly. "I have a feeling I've done this before. It doesn't hurt."

"Your body does seem to know what it's doing," Draco replied.

"Are you disappointed that you're not my first?"

"On the contrary. Knowing that I won't hurt you means I can pound your arse to my heart's content." Draco leered at Harry, and the latter wasn't quite sure if he was only teasing.

In case he was, Harry responded, "I also have a feeling I like it a little rough."

With that remark, Draco began to move his hips, backward and forward.

Harry groaned again, this time Draco along with him.

They moved together in perfect rhythm, both tilting their hips forward and away.

Draco lifted Harry's legs up onto his shoulders, restricting Harry's movement. But the new position provided friction in just the right place for the brunet.

"Oh, fuck, that's good," Harry grunted. He grabbed his own cock and began stroking roughly.

"Harry, you feel so good. I'm not going to last much longer."

"Me too," Harry murmured.

Draco ran a hand across Harry's body, caressing his chest and tweaking a nipple.

When Harry gasped at the feeling, Draco raked his fingernails over the tender area.

"Yeah," Harry whispered. "Oh, Drake." He closed his eyes.

Draco kept his attention focused on his lover's needs, watching Harry's face as he came closer to climaxing, even as he was ready to explode himself.

"Oh, Drake," Harry moaned. "Harder. Oh, Drake. Oh. Drake. Ohhh." He repeated the mantra several times until the words seemed to blend together, sounding more like his lover's real name.

Harry came hard, spilling thick white jizz on his stomach and hand. He cried out, "Draco."

Panting heavily, Harry opened his eyes to gaze up at his lover.

"You called me Draco," the named man smiled.

"It is your name. Is that all right?"

"It was nice," Draco said gently. For that brief moment, he felt it was the whole Harry there with him.

Harry frowned. "Why did you stop moving? Don't you want to finish?"

"I did," Draco smiled coyly. "When you did."

"Was it good?" Harry asked. He was so engaged in making his own sounds of pleasure, he didn't notice if Draco did.

"It was fantastic."

He looked down at Harry, hair unkempt and slightly sweaty. He knew he never felt about any of his conquests the way he felt about this man. He had the notion he would never feel about anyone the way he felt about Harry. Draco dared to hope that, so strong was their connection, everything would work out for the pair, even once Harry got his memory back.

"I love you, Drake," Harry blurted out.

Draco blinked at the unexpected declaration.

Misreading Draco's reaction, Harry bit his lip.

"You don't have to say anything. I only wanted you to know."

Draco gave him a small kiss on the lips.

"Thank you." He paused. "I'm not good at . . . I . . ." Draco looked away. He wanted to say it. However, as hopeful as he had just been, his fear of vulnerability won out. "You make me happy, Harry."

Harry smiled. He knew that Draco was a very guarded man. And although he longed to hear the words, Harry suspected that what Draco just said was as close to 'I love you' as he was going to get. For the time being. Harry could be patient as long as they were together.

He hoped that would be forever.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

* * *

**So, I realized that I wasn't explaining why I chose the lines for the titles to each chapter. I guess some are self explanatory ie: when you lose something you can't replace -Harry's memory. ****I've also had to alter the lines a bit, to make them fit in the title space. ** Nobody has asked, so I hope that means they've been sort of making sense. In this chapter, Harry gets what he wants, but he doesn't get the 'I love you' he needs. 

p.s. the title of the next chapter is Lights Will Guide You Home -dun dun dun


	8. lights will guide you home ch 8

*** well, this is it. Sort of. It's a turning point, at any rate**

**BloodyRose90- No, Harry definitely is no stranger to back door fun ;)**

**HPfan29- it will be somewhat complicated**

**FantasyFiend09- unfortunately, you won't find out how either of them really feels about the whole thing right away.**

**MrBuster- Tak! I hope that was right :)**

**greeneyed-angiebaby- here's the build up. And I actually laughed out loud at your National Inquirer allusion**

**jointheclub- thanks for breaking your silence :0 Glad you're enjoying it!**

**Thanks also to ClaireBouldwin, xSingleXdrarryXShipper2x, cassy1994, Deby Magid, and WitchRavenFox for reading and reviewing! And thanks for the growing list of faves and alerts.**

* * *

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day sixty-four, Sunday

Draco bound up the stairs to the flat.

"Harry!" he called. "I've found someone to help."

Harry looked up from his position in the window seat. He had been reading another one of Draco's mystery novels, and Draco startled him.

"You scared the shit out of me, Drake. I was just at the part when the killer was looking in the window at the runaway girl."

Laughing, Draco told him again, "But I've found someone to help you."

"Help me do what?"

"Why, get your memory back, of course," Draco replied.

"Oh," Harry said quietly.

"There's a wizard in Frankfurt, Germany, a Spell Master who has worked extensively on amnesia brought on by spells. Well, specifically his spells."

Harry frowned. "You mean, he purposely makes people have amnesia?"

"Yes, but it's some sort of therapy," Draco explained. "Anyway, he may be able to restore some or all of your memory."

"What makes you think so? How did you find this man?" Harry questioned. He'd never really doubted Draco before, but something didn't seem right.

Draco hesitated. He wanted to tell Harry the whole truth. He knew he should have told him who Ron and Hermione really were. Everything had gotten so out of hand. In the beginning, he had planned on telling Harry all that he needed to know, eventually. But he hadn't counted on falling for him. There was so much more at stake now than a simple agreement between an Auror and a former Death Eater.

"Harry, you know I have been withholding some information from you. You're smart enough to have figured that out."

Harry nodded.

"And yet, you haven't you pressed for answers. You haven't put me in a spot, when you easily could have. You could have walked away, knowing that, as the Chosen One, anyone off the street would be willing to help you."

Harry looked away. He was as much responsible for the charade as Draco.

"I don't want to be the Chosen One. I don't want to be Harry Potter. I don't want my memory back."

"But you have to."

"Why?"

"Uh, I don't know. You just do." Draco couldn't really come up with a compelling reason. Why wouldn't he want to remember? He seemed fascinated by the things Draco told him about magic and his adventurous life. "Isn't it frustrating not to know the details of your own life?"

Harry shrugged. "From what you've told me so far, Potter sounds like a complete git. Why would I want to be him?"

"You weren't the git, I was," Draco said. "Besides, I don't know everything about you. In fact, there's much more I _don't_ know. There may be important things."

"Such as?"

"Maybe you've reconciled with your Aunt and Uncle and you have Sunday supper with them every week."

Harry laughed. "Somehow I doubt that."

"Well, how do you know you're not married or something? Or perhaps you have a child."

Harry held up his hand. "No ring. And you said I didn't have a child."

"That I know of. I only know what's been in the Prophet, and what I've seen here. You know we didn't always get along."

"Precisely," Harry said. "Why would I want to remember that? By now, everyone has learned to get along without me. I want to stay with you."

"Eventually, someone will find us out," Draco told him. "We can't keep hiding you forever. I want to be able to be completely honest with you. The way you've been with me."

Harry hung his head. "I haven't been _completely_ honest."

Head cocked to one side, Draco questioned, "What do you mean?"

"I think maybe my magic is starting to come back."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Because it isn't something I can consciously do. A few times, strange things happened. The only explanation is that I really do have magic like you."

Draco smirked. "You didn't believe me when I told you that you were powerful. I wonder if that's why you couldn't perform any magic."

"I picked up your wand once," Harry said. "It sort of vibrated, tugged at me. I can't really describe it, but it scared me, so I threw it down. And one time I wanted the salt shaker across the table, but I was too lazy to get up and reach for it," Harry laughed. "It just slid across the table to me. Just a foot or so, but it definitely moved. When I tried to do it again on purpose, I couldn't."

"This is all the more reason for you to go see that wizard in Germany. At the very least to get your magic back."

"I'd give it up for you."

"What?" Draco asked, incredulous. "No."

"Yes. I would. I would rather be with you as I am, than have to be someone I don't remember being. You said yourself that we didn't always get along. What if I get my memory back and I . . . " Harry could hardly finish the thought. "What if I don't want to be with you anymore?"

"It's a chance we'll both have to take," Draco said.

"We don't have to." Harry got up from the window seat and walked to Draco. He took Draco's hand in his and looked at him in all seriousness. "Let's move to Paris together. If Harry Potter is so well known in London, we'll leave. You can still tell me all the things weighing on your mind. But it won't make a difference. I love you. _I'll_ always love you. Even though you don't say it, I know you love me too. I think you secretly don't want me to remember."

Draco looked away in shame. Harry was correct, but he'd hoped he hadn't been that obvious.

"Let's stop trying," Harry said. "Let's just be happy. We can move away and start over in Paris, in the new shop."

The temptation was overpowering. Draco had been almost wishing he wouldn't be able to restore Harry's memory. But in that case, he would have had to turn him over to Ron. Draco was trying so desperately hard to do the right thing by Harry. What was the right thing? Keep Harry oblivious, but happy? Or let him go, to lose the love he finally found? Either way, Draco would have to live with the guilt of what Harry would give up.

"Are you certain?" he asked. "You should really give it some thought."

"Absolutely certain. Drake, I have given this a lot of thought. Since the first time we made love, I've been trying to find a way to admit that I don't want to go back to who I was. I like being Harry Redmond. I love this life. I can't imagine being without you." Harry bit his lip. "Is this something you want?"

"Selfishly so."

"Oh, Drake, you won't regret it." Harry hugged him tightly. "I'll make you happier than you've ever been."

"You already have," Draco whispered.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

That evening, the pair made their plans. The more it seemed a reality, the more excited Draco grew about the prospect of moving to Paris with Harry.

The following day, Draco left Mirabelle and Harry in charge of the shop while he apparated off to Paris. He removed the sign in the flat window and began tidying up in preparation for their move. The space was slightly bigger than the shop in Knockturn Alley, as was the apothecary downstairs. It was also in a much more reputable part of town in the greater wizarding area of Paris.

Draco had convinced himself that this was the best possible move for them. There was much less prejudice against him than in London. And they'd be less likely to run into any of Harry's friends or fans. They could live a wonderful life there in the most romantic city in the world.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day sixty-five, Monday

Mirabelle greeted a customer while Harry was at the back of the shop weighing out some asphodel for another. Other than those two, traffic had been relatively slow, even for a Thursday.

Harry kept glancing at the clock, anxiously awaiting Draco's return.

"He said he won't be back until this evening, Harry," Mirabelle teased him. "Clock watching won't make him come back any faster."

She was thrilled for the pair. Though she didn't know the details of their story, she believed Harry brought out the best in her mentor. He was even seen laughing in the shop occasionally. And on slow days, he and Harry often left the shop for lunch, leaving Mirabelle temporarily in charge.

"I just can't wait for him to get back," Harry blushed.

"I know. I think it's adorable," she told him. "I hope some day someone waits for me so anxiously."

"What about your young man, Warren?"

"Oh, we have fun but . . ."

"There are no butterflies?"

Mirabelle giggled. "Is that what it feels like when you're with Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry giggled too, but in a more manly fashion. "Do you think it's silly?"

"No, I think it's lovely," she smiled.

"You know, you're going to be in charge here. I think it would be all right for you to call him Draco."

She shrugged. "Perhaps." Then she suddenly remembered something. "Oh, I forgot to order us lunch. Would you mind running to the cafe to pick something up? I'm sure I can manage here alone for a while."

"No problem. Actually, I wanted to go to the bookstore anyway. Draco is putting in a muggle type stove that I'll be able to use by myself. I want to get a cookbook so I can cook more than just breakfast food," he laughed.

He took some coins from the petty cash drawer and wrote down Mirabelle's order.

"I shouldn't be more than an hour," Harry said as he walked out the door. The day was warm and sunny, and Harry had a spring in his step. Nothing could spoil his mood.

He placed the food order at Mirabelle's favorite cafe, then strolled to Flourish & Blott's. He smiled as he entered, feeling in particularly friendly spirits. Not even the same snobby greeter from Harry's first trip to the shop could bring him down. Harry simply walked up to him and asked for the books in which he was interested.

"Could you please tell me if you have any muggle cookbooks?" Harry smiled widely, aware that his very presence was irritating the man.

"Muggle cookbooks?" the greeter repeated with a snobbish sneer on his face. "How quaint. We may have something back in the muggle section," he felt obligated to inform Harry. The man dismissively waved toward the back of the shop.

Figuring that was as much information as he would get out of the clerk, Harry made his way to the small muggle section.

As small as it was, the section was still large enough to overwhelm Harry. He shrugged and began looking through the shelves, which seemed not to be as neat and orderly as the magical volumes.

Finally, he stumbled upon the specific section he was looking for. A young woman stood near by. She appeared too engrossed in her own search to notice Harry.

He scratched his head and pulled out one of the cookbooks from the shelf. He leafed through it and sighed. It appeared too advanced for him, and he replaced it.

The young woman, having chosen a book, glanced at Harry, who looked confused. She took pity on him an offered her assistance.

"Do you need any help?"

"Sorry?" He turned toward the girl. She had warm brown eyes and an even warmer smile.

"You look a bit lost here. And, not to brag, but I probably know the books in here better than the clerks," she laughed. Her laugh was like music. Harry liked her immediately.

"Yes, thank you," he smiled back. "That clerk doesn't seem to like me much and just pointed me back here to find things on my own."

"What are you looking for?"

"I need a cookbook," Harry replied.

"Well, this is the muggle section," the girl told him.

"That's what I want. A muggle cookbook."

The girl cocked her head. "Have we met before?"

"I think I'd remember someone as kind as you," Harry answered.

"Hmm. Your voice seems familiar. You're not on the Wizard Wireless Network, are you?"

"No." Harry disguised his voice slightly, thinking he ought to be cautious.

Shaking the thought, the young woman plucked a book from the shelf. "I like this one. Are you a beginner, or more advanced?"

"Well, I'm pretty good at breakfast foods," Harry said proudly. "My Aunt Petunia made me learn. But I'd like to expand my repertoire."

The girl gaped at Harry.

"Are you all right, miss?" he asked when her face paled.

She looked closely at him. "Are you certain we haven't met?"

"Quite," he answered. "But where are my manners? I'm Redmond. Harry Redmond." He held out his hand.

She tentatively took his hand. "Hermione," she said, looking for any sign of recognition.

"Thank you Hermione. This book looks to be just what I need." He tried to pull his hand away, but she held tight.

Hermione turned his hand back side up.

"I must not tell lies," she whispered.

"Excuse me?" Harry began to panic.

"Harry? It's me, Hermione. Don't you remember me?"

He managed to pull his hand away, and dropping the book, bolted for the door.

"Wait!" she shouted, giving chase.

"Miss! You'll have to pay for those books!" the greeter stopped her before she was able to leave the store.

She threw her books on the counter. "Hold them for me!" she shouted and took off down the alley. Hermione was able to spot Harry, who didn't look like Harry just as he turned the corner.

Hermione made her way through Knockturn Alley and saw Harry walking swiftly through. He turned to see if she was still following, then began walking faster.

"Harry! Stop! Please."

The Alley was fairly empty, as most people were milling near the cafes and bakery for lunch. Harry felt exposed. But if he could make it to the Dragon's Lair, he could sneak up to Draco's flat where Hermione wouldn't be able to follow.

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione shouted. "I'm your best friend. Don't make me hex you!"

She said it with such authority, Harry slowed and turned to face her. For some reason, he believed her.

"How do you know me?"

"I'd know you anywhere, even with that glamour you're wearing. Your voice gave it away at first. Harry, why are you pretending to be someone else?"

"I'm not. I am Harry Redmond. I'm sorry miss, but I don't know you." He saw the pain in her eyes as he made his confession.

"But you stopped when I said your name," Hermione reasoned.

"I hardly remember being him at all." He couldn't explain why he told her that information. He'd been able to keep up the pretense of being Redmond with everyone else. At that point, it wasn't in fact, pretense at all. He had become Harry Redmond for all intents and purposes. But this girl was the first to figure out who he really was. Granted, he'd had little interaction with others and he supposed only those very close to him would recognize his voice. And she didn't appear to hold any malice towards him.

"You've lost your memory? But you remember your name," she said, piecing it together. "Ron was right," she mumbled to herself.

"You knew me just by my voice?" he asked.

"And you mentioned Aunt Petunia. That was a huge giveaway. The scar on your hand was the clincher, though."

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything. He told me not to divulge anything personal about Potter," Harry berated himself.

"You _are_ Potter," Hermione said. "Who told you not to say anything? Are you being held against your will?"

"No, miss-"

"Mrs. . . Weasley."

Harry's eyes widened as he remembered the girl Draco was yelling at in the shop weeks ago. "Weasley? Like Ron Weasley?"

Heartened by the mention of her husband's name, Hermione smiled. "Yes. Do you remember him?"

Shaking his head, Harry replied. "Not the way you're hoping. I've met him briefly a couple of times since I lost my memory."

She rolled her eyes. "Leave it to Ron not to recognize his best friend."

"His what? Surely you don't mean me? I'm friends with that git?" Noting the indignant look on her face, Harry explained, "Well, he was a git to me and my companion."

"So, you haven't been alone all this time. Who was your companion? Where have you been hiding?"

Before Harry could answer, with a lie of some sort, Hermione let out a squeal.

"Oh! Teddy will be so happy. He's been beside himself. He misses you so."

"Who's Teddy?" Harry's brow furrowed. Could he possibly have left a lover behind?

"Teddy is your Godson."

"I didn't think I had anyone? My parents are dead. And my Aunt and Uncle pretty much hate me."

"Harry, you've got lots of people who love and need you."

"Like this Teddy?"

"Him most of all. He needs you guidance and support. Andromeda has been doing the best she can, but she just wants to be a doting grandmother."

"Isn't that what parents are for? Why aren't they taking care of him?"

"Harry," she put her hand on his arm. "Tonks and Remus are dead. You really don't remember any of them?"

Harry shook his head. "How old is he?"

"Seven."

"And he has no parents? Like me?"

"No, not like you. He has you and Andromeda." Hermione gasped and held her hand to her mouth. "Molly. Oh, she'll be so relieved. She never got over losing Fred, but it was slowly getting better. Then you went missing. It was like losing a son all over again."

Hermione refrained long enough and couldn't resist hugging Harry. "Oh, Harry, everyone will be so thrilled to see you. We should go to the Ministry straightaway and see about retrieving your memories."

"Right now?" Harry glanced down the Alley. The wooden sign announcing the Dragon's Lair swung in a gentle breeze. He was mere yards from oblivious bliss. He cursed himself for stopping when Hermione called his name.

In the end, Harry Potter and Harry Redmond were one and the same. He loved Draco and wanted to spend the rest of his days with him. But Harry Potter would never turn away from a child who needed him. And neither could Harry Redmond. He hoped Draco would understand. Harry planned to come back to explain it all.

"All right," he sighed. "I'll go with you, for this Teddy's sake."

"What about your companion? Is there someone you want to contact before we go?" she asked.

Glancing at the sign once more, Harry answered, "Let's just go before I change my mind."

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

At quarter past eight, Draco approached the Dragon's Lair with a late supper in hand from one of the French take away restaurants near the new shop. He stopped short as he reached for the handle to find it unlocked and the lights on.

It was odd, as Mirabelle should have closed up the shop over an hour prior.

The moment he stepped inside, he was assailed by a babbling and obviously distraught Mirabelle.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, I'm so glad you're back. I didn't know what to do." She paced in front of him.

"What's happened? Where's Harry?"

"I'm not sure. I sent him to pick up lunch hours ago, but he never returned.

"Perhaps he came back while you were busy with a customer and he went up to the flat."

"No." She shook her head. "Pardon me, sir, but I went up there to look already."

"Was everything all right when he left?"

"Yes. He was very excited about moving and he was in excellent spirits. I've been so worried."

"Where did he go? I'll go out and look for him," Draco said as he put down the food.

"He went to Pete's cafe. And then he said he wanted to go to the bookstore. "I've owled both places. Pete said he placed the order but never picked it up. The clerk at Flourish and Blott's sent a cursory note saying Harry may have been in. He couldn't quite recall. But he definitely didn't purchase anything."

"I'll try those places in person." Draco glanced at his watch. "Damn, the book shop is probably closed by now. Perhaps I should check St. Mungo's. Just in case."

Mirabelle could see the worry on his face.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day sixty-eight, Thursday

It took the Spell Master three days to restore Harry's memories. Fortunately for the hero, the German wizard, the same one Draco had tracked down, had been able to counter act Nazar Duncan's botch job. So much of Harry's memories were affected, the pair worked day and night until the Spell Master was satisfied with Harry's recovery. His magic had come back as strong as ever along with the memories. And a short visit to St. Mungo's when all was said and done confirmed Harry's physical and magical health.

However, Harry was still required to speak to a counselor as well. Aurors were always required to speak with a counselor after any trauma suffered in the course of their duties. Usually when one was forced to use excessive force or kill a suspect, or when a partner is lost. Harry hated the counselors. They all acted as though they understood. He knew they could not possibly understand how it felt to kill, when they hadn't done it themselves. The woman who evaluated Harry was nice enough and bright enough he supposed. But she was easily fooled by the story he gave her. He knew the system- act upset, agree with the counselor, admit to feelings he didn't have, and get a clean bill of mental health.

To say that Harry was conflicted when he got his old memories back was the understatement of the year. He simultaneously felt love and hate for the same man, was in an openly gay relationship while still in the closet, and had two very different futures planned for himself.

He cursed Malfoy for showing him what his life could be.

Only after regaining his memory did Harry realize all that Malfoy kept from him. Harry was convinced it was all to show himself in a better light. Sure, Malfoy told him some unflattering details about himself-things Harry Potter would most likely never have found out. But even that must have been a calculated measure to gain Harry's trust.

Harry was angry. Angry at Malfoy for drawing him in. Angry at himself for being drawn in. And part of him was angry with Hermione for guilting him into seeking the truth.

The counselor was mesmerized by Harry's tale of wandering the countryside and eventually being taken in by a kind muggle woman living in a remote area. He wasn't even certain himself how he came up with vivid details that never happened.

In the end, he convinced her that he suffered no ill effects and that he was ready to resume working. Her official verdict was that Harry could return to desk duties after a week's rest. After that, it would be up to Kingsley Shacklebolt to decide when he could return to full duties. Harry didn't fight it. It was more than he'd hoped for. After being away for over two months, he had a lot of things to catch up on. Not the least of which was Teddy.

Harry wasn't sure how he was going to make it up to the boy for abandoning him, even if it was unintentional. He was a bright boy, and he hoped Teddy would understand.

As anxious as he was to see his Godson, there was another visit he needed to pay first . . .

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

* * *

**I know. Sorry for the cliffhanger. Here are a couple of sneak peeks to make up for it :)**

_The silence dragged on._

_"Harry, you can still come back."_

_Opening his eyes, Harry shook his head. "I can't. I can't forget all the memories I just got back."_

_"I'm not asking you to. I'm only asking you to put the new ones first. Remember how happy you were here."_

* * *

_"Forgive me for saying this, did you do anything to confirm Malfoy's credibility? Did you question anything he told you?"_

_Thinking back, Harry had to admit that Hermione was right. "No, not really. Even though there were times I was sure he knew more than he was telling me. And he contradicted himself occasionally."_

_"So, a part of you wanted to live blissfully unaware."_

_"A big part," Harry confessed. "The day before you ran into me at the bookstore, I strongly suggested that he needn't try so hard to figure out how to get my memory back. I was ready to give up and stay with him._

* * *

_He reached into his pocket. "I never did get a chance to pay you back. Here." He handed her several galleons more than he had borrowed. Then he took out his wand and waved it over his head. The glamour he had worn while working in the shop glimmered into view._

_Mirabelle gasped. "It is you!" She frowned. "Did he know that?"_

_Harry nodded. "He knew it was me from the beginning. But I really had lost my memory. I didn't know who either of us were. I suppose he didn't tell you the whole story."_

_"He only told me that you decided to leave and that your relationship was over." Mirabelle looked closely at the glamour faced man. "I take it you got your memory back. Is that why you left? Because, as Harry Potter, you couldn't live with Draco Malfoy?"_


	9. you love someone but it goes to waste

***Okay, so keep in mind that there about three more chapters after this one . . .**

**rileygar25- aw, don't hate Hermione. She had no idea what she was doing to Harry and Draco. I think you'll like her again after this chapter**

**19missybaker63- Hermione is just a more observant, logical person. Ron was too blinded by his hatred for Malfoy that he couldn't see any hints of Harry behind Redmond**

**FantasyFiend09- even without his memory, Harry has a connection to Hermione. And I thought Harry would need a more compelling reason to leave Draco to get his memory back than his friends. Teddy is a kindred spirit, whose story mimics his own in a way. And how could he turn down a child in need?**

**cassy1994- sorry for the cliffie last chapter. I don't know that this one will make you any happier. Though I wouldn't exactly call it a cliffhanger**

**ClaireBouldwin- I didn't go into details about how Harry got his memories back, mainly because it would have been a bunch of made up mumbo jumbo ha ha. But I wanted to get straight to the reactions to the memories, and figured the technicalities would be boring.**

**Princessmelodina- I didn't go on FF that day, rest assured. Unfortunately, I did receive some reviews via e-mail. So there were definitely people on that day. And yeah, I'm kinda jealous of Harry and Draco too!**

**BloodyRose90- you're a sick bastard-no, I'm just kidding! I always write in the angst, so I must be one as well! I always say, anything worth having is worth going through Hell for. Or something like that. And yay, I'm so glad you like Mirabelle.**

**Antybioda- I'm sorry you were disappointed. I never intended to show the interaction between Harry and Neustadt.**

**WitchRavenFox- I think this is the toughest chapter, emotion-wise. It's a bit of a rollercoaster.**

**blueberry709- that's so cool that you found out about this through Tumblr. I don't mind the nicknames, but I know what you mean. In this fic, I thought Draco needed one to distinguish his relationship with Harry from the rest of his life. Harry was someone else, so Draco should be too. And thanks for liking Mirabelle. Since I don't have Blaise in the fic again, she's the one looking out for Draco.**

**ExpelliarmusBitch- LOL I'm so glad I didn't confuse anybody. That's half the battle- getting out what's in my head without making too many leaps.**

**Thanks to luvsallthingsslash, Kisa167, earthstar, The Angel Redemption, LalalaSpacingInPandaLand, da-blk-saiyangirl, DracoMalfoyIsMyLionI'mHisLamb, Chance13, Sakura angel dark, DebyMagid, TearsOfTheHeart7 for reading and reviewing! I think chapter 8 was the most reviewed so far!**

* * *

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day sixty-eight, Thursday

Draco walked into his shop after the third day of searching for Harry. He was exhausted and worried. His shop would have fallen to the wayside, had it not been for Mirabelle. She was an invaluable employee and friend. He knew she would do well when he and Harry moved to Paris.

"Anything?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'm going upstairs," he said curtly. He stopped and turned to face her. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "Thank you for all you've been doing. I don't know what I would have done without you these past few days."

She smiled sympathetically. "I wish I could do more."

"I just don't know where to look anymore," Draco sighed. "Let me know if he comes in."

Draco slowly trudged up the steps leading to his flat. With each passing day, he was less hopeful about finding Harry. And there was little he could do. He certainly couldn't go to the authorities. They were already looking for him, as were his friends. All he could do was hope that Nazar Duncan, whom he thought was responsible for Harry's memory loss, hadn't found him and taken him away.

The flat was dark and lonely without Harry.

"Lumos," he whispered, for it was all the effort he could put forward.

Something was different.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure in the chair. Turning quickly, Draco pointed his wand at the intruder.

"Harry!" Draco grinned and took a step forward. He stopped when he saw that it was no longer _his_ Harry, but the Harry that was his former childhood adversary. "You've gotten your memory back." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Was it fun? Humiliating me?" Harry's eyes were hard and steely, despite the warm green color they possessed.

"I didn't humiliate you."

"I let you fuck me!" Harry yelled. "I _wanted_ you to fuck me. You _tricked_ me into wanting you to fuck me. I'd call that humiliation."

Shaking his head, Draco replied, "I didn't trick you. I only let you see me for who I really am, rather than the two-dimensional spoiled prick you thought you knew in school."

Harry closed his eyes and attempted to gather his thoughts. He came to the flat with a purpose, he didn't want to get drawn in by Draco again.

"There were any number of choices you could have made when you found me. Why didn't you contact the Ministry? Or Ron? Why keep me here if not to demean me? You must have known how I would react when I regained my memory." Harry couldn't help but seek answers to the questions that had plagued him since regaining his memory. He wasn't sure how he would react if Draco indeed acknowledged his intentions to bring Harry down in the most undignified way possible.

Looking down so as to avoid the eyes that at one time melted his heart, Draco told the truth. "I did think I could gain something from keeping you here, but not what you think. I thought perhaps if I could restore your memory myself, show you some . . . kindness, that it would translate into real respect in the wizarding community for me. So, yes, at first, I used you."

It wasn't exactly a satisfying answer. Though Draco admitted his motives were less than honorable, they weren't quite sinister either.

"But," Draco continued. "If you'll recall, I treated you with nothing but respect. I fed you, clothed you, reintroduced you to wizarding ways."

"And told me half truths."

Draco chanced to look at Harry's face. "You could have walked away at any time. You knew enough to find your own way, if you really wanted to. And you treated me like . . . a friend. I enjoyed it too much to risk losing it."

Harry took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. This wasn't going at all the way he thought it would. He was expecting a fight, at the very least some yelling, or an attempt at a few curses. He was expecting to walk away hating this man, so he could be done with it. But that wasn't going to happen.

"Malfoy, what you did was wrong," Harry said quietly. "Don't you see that?"

"It's hard for me to regret," Draco confessed.

"Because you knew what you were getting yourself into," Harry reminded him.

"You initiated everything."

Harry closed his eyes. "I remember." Draco had him there. Harry knew all too well that he had been the aggressor in their relationship. Draco had tried to resist, at first.

The silence dragged on.

"Harry, you can still come back."

Opening his eyes, Harry shook his head. "I can't. I can't forget all the memories I just got back."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm only asking you to put the new ones first. Remember how happy you were here."

"I'm sorry," Harry said honestly. "I don't know how you can put aside all the animosity, but I can't. I can't come back. I mainly came here to tell you that I won't be harassing you in your shop anymore. I owe you that much at least, for all you've done for me. But I want you to stay away from me."

"Please don't say that. I love you," Draco choked out. He regretted not saying the words Harry longed to hear when he had the chance. It seemed those words now fell upon deaf ears. Worse, Draco finally learned to open up, to show his vulnerability, and it was wasted.

Harry stood. He needed to get out of there as soon as possible, before he lost the will.

"I . . . thank you, for trying to fix me." Harry began to walk past Draco to leave.

"I think it was you who fixed me." Draco reached out his hand as Harry passed. "Please," he begged softly.

"Good bye Drake." Harry swiftly walked down the stairs into the shop, pulling his cloak over himself so Mirabelle wouldn't notice him. He made his way through to the front door, silenced the bell and walked out. Once in the alley, Harry finally let the tears flow.

Meanwhile, Draco flopped down onto the bed. He was too numb to cry, or feel anything at all that night. But he knew the next day would be pure Hell. Exhaustion took over as he clutched onto Harry's pillow and fell asleep.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day seventy-nine, Monday

"Harry, do you really think you're ready to come back to work?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, why? Do you think I'm not?"

"It's only been two weeks since I found you. You've just filed the Blonski file in the G section. And you tossed your lunch into the trash and put your copy of the Prophet in the fridge."

His brow furrowed as he tried to recall doing either thing.

"Oh." He looked down into his trash bin. His lunch bag was indeed inside. "I'm a bit distracted is all."

"Did the counselor suggest you come back already? Or are you just being you."

Harry attempted a smile. "You know me well Hermione. But I couldn't sit around my house doing nothing for one more day."

"But something is bothering you, isn't it? Can I help?"

Shaking his head, Harry plopped down into his chair. Hermione took the seat on the other side of his desk.

"I appreciated your concern, Mione. There are some things I have to work out for myself."

"Is the counseling helping at all?" she queried.

"I'm not seeing the counselor anymore," he admitted.

"You need to talk to someone, Harry. Don't try to get through this on your own. I'm certain Ron would-"

"No, I can't talk to Ron. I mean, not yet."

"Harry, please, I can see that something is eating you up inside." Hermione reached across the desk to gently touch his hand. "You know you can tell me anything."

Nodding, Harry agreed. "I know. But . . . I hope you won't judge me too harshly."

She smiled. "I won't judge you at all." She paused. "You didn't tell the counselor anything of consequence did you? Is that why she let you come back to work?"

"I sold a boring story about being lost in a remote area and found by a kind muggle. I don't even recall how I told her I got back to Diagon Alley. Whatever it was, she bought it and deemed me mentally stable enough to return to my job."

"What really happened to you? Were you held against your will?"

"No, quite the contrary. I was well cared for, and free to go if I wished. Of course, I wasn't told the entire truth, so I feared leaving. I suppose there was some truth to the idea that whoever stole my memory could have been searching for me to finish the job, or do worse."

"So, you only felt as though you were free to leave. In reality, you were . . . brainwashed, for lack of a better term."

"I don't think it was quite that deliberate," Harry told her.

"Harry, you sound like a classic case. Quite often, a victim sympathizes with their captor, and takes blame upon himself. Whoever kept you committed a crime."

"It's more complicated than that Hermione." He looked away at nothing on a shelf. "I fell in love. And I would have gladly stayed forever if I hadn't gotten my memory back."

"But you did," Hermione said. "And that's the biggest problem, isn't it? You don't think you would ever have loved this person under normal circumstances. Is that right?"

Hermione always could figure things out better than anyone. He easily pulled the wool over the counselor's eyes. But Hermione was a different story, she cut right to the chase.

Harry nodded.

"Who was it?" she asked tentatively, knowing he most likely wasn't ready to tell.

He met her gaze, a very serious look in his eye. "You'd be surprised on more than one account."

"I said I wouldn't judge you, and I meant that. You don't have to tell me, but you might feel better if you get it off your chest."

Harry took in a deep breath and let it out quickly, causing his lips to puff out and papers on his desk to flutter.

"All right," he said. "The person who took me in is . . . a man." He looked away to avoid the expression on Hermione's face. Had he been looking, he would have seen her knowing smile, rather the look of disgust he was expecting.

"Do you feel better saying it?"

"No."

"Harry, look at me. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm glad you finally said something. I've suspected for a while now. Ever since you broke up with Ginny."

"You knew?" Harry was incredulous.

"Not for certain, but I thought perhaps there was something between you and Cortlandt Bartholomew."

Harry's face reddened. He had, in fact, dated Cortlandt secretly. Or so he thought.

"Briefly," Harry admitted. "It was too difficult. He was out and didn't want to sneak around. I didn't blame him, but I wasn't ready."

"Are you ready now?" Hermione questioned.

"Perhaps. I'm not sure how to, um, tell people."

Hermione smirked. "It's not as though you need to make an announcement. Just don't hide it any longer. People will figure it out for themselves. Not that it's anyone else's business."

"Thank you, Mione."

Hermione shifted in her chair. "Harry, the curiosity is going to kill me. Who was it? Who found you?"

There was a long silence before he answered.

"Malfoy," he said softly.

"Malfoy," she repeated blankly. "_Draco_ Malfoy?"

"Are there any others running around free?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Draco Malfoy took you in and cared for you? He tried to help you get your memory back? _Draco Malfoy_ is the person you-oh." Hermione sat speechless after the revelation.

He could see by her expression that she wasn't sure how to feel about Harry's disclosure. Her eyebrows twitched more than usual, sometimes furrowing, sometimes raising. She licked her lips in preparation for speaking, but no words came out. Finally, Hermione cleared her throat and leaned forward.

"Are you certain?"

"Of course I'm certain," Harry answered indignantly.

"Sorry, stupid question. I have another one. Why, or_ how_?"

Harry's demeanor softened, and his eyes had a distant look to them. A faint smile graced his face. "He's very different from the person we all thought he was. He's intelligent and thoughtful. Gentle, when he wants to be. Powerful when he needs to be. And as vulnerable as any of us. He still has the sarcastic wit, but you can see that he doesn't mean it most of the time. He has a wonderful sense of humor," Harry grinned. "One time, he played a prank on Mirabelle-"

Harry's smile dropped.

"I don't want to remember those times anymore."

"Harry, have you spoken to him since you've recovered?"

"Yes, just after. He'd apparently been searching for me for three days, not knowing you and Ron found me."

"And?" she prodded.

"And, I ended it."

"Just like that?"

"We talked first."

Hermione pursed her lips.

"Were you happy?" she asked.

"Yes. _So_ happy." Harry closed his eyes briefly. "But that was before I realized what he'd done."

"No, I mean _before_ you went to stay at Malfoy's."

He sighed. "Not particularly."

"And now you're downright miserable," Hermione pointed out. "If Ron and I let a few fights and hexes keep us apart, we never would have gotten married," she chuckled softly.

"There were more than a few fights between me and Malfoy. And our hexes nearly killed each other."

"All I know, Harry, is that the only time I've seen you smile recently is when you talked about Malfoy. Perhaps if both of you have changed, it could work."

"But he lied to me for months."

"Forgive me for saying this, did you do anything to confirm Malfoy's credibility? Did you question anything he told you?"

Thinking back, Harry had to admit that Hermione was right. "No, not really. Even though there were times I was sure he knew more than he was telling me. And he contradicted himself occasionally."

"So, a part of you wanted to live blissfully unaware."

"A big part," Harry confessed. "The day before you ran into me at the bookstore, I strongly suggested that he needn't try so hard to figure out how to get my memory back. I was ready to give up and stay with him."

"And now you're ready to give up on him altogether?"

Harry hung his head. "I don't want to. I miss him so much," he said quietly. "I miss feeling . . . loved."

"Then, don't give up."

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day eighty, Tuesday

Harry steeled himself and pushed open the door to The Dragon's Lair.

Mirabelle made her way to the front of the shop when she heard the tiny bell over the door. When she saw Harry's face, she frowned.

"He's not here," she said brusquely. "But the receipts are all in order. I'll get them." Mirabelle turned in a huff.

"Wait, I'm not here for that. Is he in the back?"

"No. He really isn't here," she replied. "Now, if that's all . . ."

"Mirabelle, please."

"It's Miss Goodwin," she corrected.

"Miss Goodwin, it's me, Harry."

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I know. People may think you're some kind of hero, but you hold no status in this establishment. I think people would be appalled at the way you've hounded Mr. Malfoy for the past few years."

Harry lowered his head, "You're right. I've come to apologize."

"Hmph. Well, you're too late."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean he's gone to set up another shop in- wait, why should I tell you?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Tell me, please," he begged. "Has he gone to Paris?"

"How did you know? Are you having him followed now?" Mirabelle crossed her arms over her chest crossly. "I don't care who you are, I'm going to report you to your superiors."

"No. He told me about it himself. I'm Harry. _Drake's_ Harry. I was wearing a glamour while I lived here."

Her arms dropped to her side as her mouth fell open.

"That's impossible. I don't believe you," she said quietly.

"Then ask me something, something only _that_ Harry would know," he challenged.

She thought for a moment. "What did he ask me to buy for him?"

"When?" Harry asked, already wracking his brain. Surely there had been several occasions when Mirabelle picked something up for Harry on a trip through the Alley.

Knowing the question may have been a bit vague, Mirabelle clarified. "Early on. He wanted to do something special for Mr. Malfoy."

A smile grew on Harry's face as he recalled what it was. "Among other things, I asked you to buy flour, sugar, baking soda and bananas. I made him homemade pancakes, the muggle way."

Once again, her mouth dropped open.

He reached into his pocket. "I never did get a chance to pay you back. Here." He handed her several galleons more than he had borrowed. Then he took out his wand and waved it over his head. The glamour he had worn while working in the shop glimmered into view.

Mirabelle gasped. "It is you!" She frowned. "Did he know that?"

Harry nodded. "He knew it was me from the beginning. But I really had lost my memory. I didn't know who either of us were. I suppose he didn't tell you the whole story."

"He only told me that you decided to leave and that your relationship was over." Mirabelle looked closely at the glamour faced man. "I take it you got your memory back. Is that why you left? Because, as Harry Potter, you couldn't live with Draco Malfoy?"

"I thought so," Harry told her. "But now, I think I can't live without him. If he'll have me back. I was . . . cruel when I last spoke to him."

"If you're sincere, I'll tell you where the new place is. He's there renovating now."

Harry removed the glamour. "I'm not going to hide anymore. I'm going to go to him as myself and everyone in the wizarding world can go to Hell if they don't like it."

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

For the second time that day, Harry found himself standing in front of an apothecary shop, nervously shifting from foot to foot. The sign on the door read CLOSED. He didn't know if it was closed for lunch, for the day or forever. There was no other place to look for Draco. He had no idea where he was staying in Paris, or even _if_ he was staying in Paris.

He sighed, deflated.

After about the fifth or sixth time circling the block, Harry looked up at the building to see a light coming from the second floor window. He strode to the front door and knocked loudly. Harry waited patiently in anticipation of their reunion, apology at the ready.

The door opened, revealing a startled Draco. The surprise was quickly replaced by a slight frown.

"Potter," he said, without emotion.

"I'm not Harry anymore?" Harry asked, smirking.

"No."

The serious tone in which Draco answered took Harry by surprise. He decided to get his apology out straightaway.

"I was an arse. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone to you so soon after regaining my memories. My mind was a jumbled mess."

"No, Potter. You were right to break things off. I did take advantage of you. I didn't intend to do it, especially the way I did. The things that happened between us never should have."

"But they did," Harry protested. "And I can't forget it."

"I could _Obliviate_ you if you'd like," Draco returned humorlessly. "My apologies. That was in poor taste."

"Drake-"

"Draco," the blond corrected. "Look Potter, I got what I wanted. And apparently so did you. You didn't have to come here to apologize for being honest with me. Whatever was between us, wasn't really us anyway. It was Drake and Redmond. All I wanted was for the man who seemed Hell-bent on tormenting me for the rest of my life to back off. And unless you're going back on your word, I got what I wanted."

"What about what I want?" Harry asked.

"You got your memory back. I realize that you could argue that no matter how hard I tried, it wasn't me that restored it. But I thought you were at least honorable."

"I'm not going back on my word. I promised not to harass you anymore and I meant it."

The pair stood in silence. The conversation wasn't going anything like Harry'd imagined. He could see that Draco was ready to walk away. He was back to the man he was in younger days, cold and withdrawn. Harry knew it was because of him.

"If that's all, I have a lot of work to do to open this shop," Draco said. He took a step back and began to close the door.

"I told Hermione about us."

The door stopped moving but Draco gave no verbal response. He thought Harry would have kept their affair a secret from the world, especially his best friends. For a split second, doubt began to leave his mind.

"She told me to come after you."

Draco sighed. "If you had to be told, then it doesn't matter. Does it?"

He closed the door, leaving Harry on the step, numb. Logically, Harry should have been relieved. He didn't believe the wizarding world would never accept them as a pair anyway. But Harry was unprepared for the way he felt-empty, as if the wind had been knocked out of him. And he wanted more than anything, to go back to being Harry Redmond, and crawl under the covers with his Drake for the rest of eternity.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

* * *

**I hope Hermione has redeemed herself in many of your eyes. This probably isn't the most satisfying way to end this chapter. But what's a love story without a little angst? Okay, a lot of angst :)**

**And you all were worried about how _Harry_ was going to handle the situation. But don't be too mad at Draco.**


	10. you try your best but you don't succeed

***Well, I'm still here. . . they haven't started taking down the stories :)**

**BloodyRose90- I knew you'd appreciate the angst. There be more to come . . . look at the title**

**LalalaSpacingInPandaLand- aw, I made you cry. tears of joy by the end, I hope ;)**

**rileygar25- the more angst, the better the sex, right?**

**jememj- yeah, last chapter was one of my favorites too. It was fun to write all the emotional confrontations**

**clary girl two, TearsOfTheHeart7, cassy1994 & Her Pillow James- patience is a virtue lol**

**FantasyFiend09, Blueberry709, WitchRavenFox & hwangpah- I'm so glad the consensus seems to be that Draco is justified in his turning Harry away. I imagine that it took so much for him to let himself fall in love, then he completely shut down when Harry broke things off. (and Yay! Coldplay)**

**QuirkyKitty93 & Kisa167- both good ideas, but Harry's going to-oh, you'll find out this chapter.**

**ClaireBouldwin- wow, I left you speechless :D**

**princessmelodina- Aw, love to the reviewers too! :)**

**Thanks also to Brooding Darkness, flounder123, Evi15, Guest, 19missybaker63, Moyima, YaDiz96 and luvsallthingsslash for reading and reviewing!**

**I love my readers! You are the best. You encourage me so much that sometimes I actually think I ought to do something with some of the original stuff I've written . . . Lol -sorry, just got carried away. Back to reality, er, I mean fantasy . . .**

* * *

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day ninety, Friday

"Oi Harry," Ron poked his head in Harry's office. "How 'bout coming over for supper tonight? Mione's making Shepherd's Pie." He laughed. "She can't cook much, but she's pretty good at that."

Harry looked up from his desk and attempted a smile.

"Gee thanks, Ron, but I've got a lot of work to do," he answered. "Being away so long really put me behind."

Ron's shoulders slumped. "It's Friday," he pointed out. "And besides, you're not going to get all of it done in one night."

"I know, but I just hate to have it linger."

"Are you avoiding me and Mione?"

"What? No, of course not," Harry lied. It was really only a half lie. He wasn't avoiding Hermione. She already knew his deepest secrets. But Ron wasn't privy to all that Harry had been through during his unexpected hiatus. Not for lacking of trying on Ron's part. He had asked so many questions that Harry had to make up details, some of which he had forgotten. It was simply too difficult to keep his stories straight.

"Maybe you ought to go to St. Mungo's for a check up," Ron suggested. "You don't seem yourself since you came back to work. You might have that post-traumatic stress thing."

Insulted by the insinuation, Harry sighed heavily. "Just because I don't want to go to your house for supper, doesn't mean there's anything wrong with me. I don't feel like going out."

"It's more than that, Harry. You seem depressed. I've noticed you staring out the window looking sort of sad."

"You sound like Hermione."

Ron blushed slightly. Harry knew the pair well enough to know that Hermione would have put that idea into Ron's head.

"Mione did mention it, but I have seen you looking out the window with your mind on something. Is it that muggle who found you? Do you miss her? Did you like her?"

"Did Hermione say that too?"

Ron grinned. "Nope. Came up with that all by myself," he said proudly. "And since you didn't deny it, I'll assume I'm right. Sometimes I envy the time away you had, living in the woods, a simple muggle life _not_ chasing Death Eaters."

"It was nice," Harry replied. Not truly paying attention to Ron's words, but recalling lazy evenings in Draco's flat.

"So you _do_ like her," Ron grinned. "Why don't you go visit her? She let you stay with her for nine weeks. I'm sure she'd be happy to see you again. Maybe she likes you too."

"It's not that simple," Harry said.

"Because she's a muggle? Nobody cares about that anymore. There are lots of mixed couples nowadays."

"It isn't that." Harry raised his voice a bit. "Please, Ron, leave it alone. It's tiring having to deflect your thousands of questions." He immediately regretted saying that.

"Deflecting my questions? Is that a polite way of saying you've been lying to me?"

"Ron-"

"I can take a hint, mate. Whatever it is, I'll bet Hermione knows all about it, though." Ron turned to leave. "The invitation for supper still stands," he said without looking back.

"Ron, wait," Harry called. "I'm sorry. I have been lying. To everyone, including myself." Harry rested his chin on the heels of his hands.

Ron took a seat. "So, no one found you? What were you doing all that time? Did you really lose your memory?" Ron stopped himself. "I'm asking a thousand questions again, aren't I?"

Harry smiled. "It's okay. I didn't lie _that_ much. I really did lose my memory, or rather, it was taken from me. I wouldn't have spent three days being poked and prodded by that Spell Master if I didn't."

"Sorry mate. Then, what really happened? Was it that bad?"

"Well, after the amnesia, I found myself wandering around Diagon Alley. Except I didn't know what it was or who any of the people greeting me were. I only remembered being a regular boy named Harry Potter living in my Aunt and Uncle's home. I had no recollection of being a wizard, or you, or Mione. I turned a corner and ended up in Knockturn Alley. The people were creepy so I ducked into a shop. The person there knew my name. So . . . I had no choice but to trust him," Harry explained.

"It was a bloke that found you? I don't understand. Why not just say so in the first place?"

"Because," Harry said it as if it were obvious. He sighed heavily at having to spell it out for Ron. "I didn't lie about everything. Just that it was a woman."

"Oh," Ron said quietly as he understood Harry's meaning. He paused for what seemed like an eternity to Harry. "You _like_ this guy?" He finally asked uncomfortably.

Harry nodded.

"Only him, or blokes in general?" The question left Ron's mouth before he could censor himself.

"In general. But him especially," Harry answered. Telling Ron wasn't nearly as painful as he expected it to be.

Ron shook his head. "Well, jeez Harry, I wish you would have told me sooner. I wouldn't have wasted so much time trying to get you and Ginny back together."

Harry laughed. "Then that wasn't my imagination?"

"No. Sorry about that," Ron offered sheepishly. "Mum really wanted the two of you to get married. Does Gin know?"

"No, but the break up was mutual. She seems happy with that Quidditch player she brought to Christmas."

"I guess," Ron shrugged. "And I guess this guy you met didn't, um, feel the same way? Is that why it's not so simple? And obviously he's not a muggle if he was in Knockturn Alley."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "You're being awfully understanding. Are you really okay with it? With me?"

"As long as you don't say you're in love with me or anything," Ron laughed. Then he stiffened up. "You're not, right?"

"No, Ron. I'll leave that to Mione." He got that far off look in his eye again. "But it's just as insane- the man I did fall for. What's even crazier is that he fell for me as well."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It was a fantasy world. When I got my memory back, I broke it off. I wasn't very nice about it."

"So go and apologize," Ron suggested. "Seems like I'm always apologizing for something or another. It always works, though." He winked.

"I tried, but it was too late. He's moving to Paris." Harry didn't say any more, fearing he'd given away too much already. He didn't know if Ron knew about Draco's new shop.

"Bummer," Ron said. "Let's go drown your sorrows in some fire whiskey, then. It's quitting time. Unless you actually have paper work to catch up on," Ron smirked.

"No. Not really," Harry said sheepishly.

"Then come on. I'll take you to the Leaky Cauldron, or wherever you'd like. My treat."

"What about supper at your place?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot," Ron snickered. "I'll owl Hermione to join us. We can have supper out. Her cooking hasn't really improved much anyway." Ron made a face.

"All right. It's your funeral, though. She won't be happy if she's prepared a muggle dish."

"I'll blame you, mate," Ron grinned. "I really need to cheer up my heartbroken best friend." He put his arm around Harry's shoulder. "She'll do anything for you. Me? That's another story."

The pair laughed and headed down three flights of stairs. Ron stopped briefly to owl Hermione then they left the building. They decided to walk to the tavern, mainly so Ron could try to get some more information out of Harry before they met up with Hermione. If she showed up.

"You're not going to tell me who it is, are you?"

"There's no point," Harry sighed. "Apparently, it's over. And besides, now you know the most important thing. So you can stop sending that pretty young secretary into my office on trivial errands."

Ron laughed. "Deal." He opened the door to the tavern for Harry.

Before he could take a step in, Draco walked through, coming from the other direction. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at Harry.

"Drake," Harry said, almost inaudibly.

"Harry." Draco cleared his throat. "Potter."

"I thought you moved-" Harry cut off when he saw Mirabelle walk through the door and join Draco.

"Harry!" she said excitedly. She glanced at Ron, Draco and Harry, feeling awkward and somewhat unsure what she had walked into.

"Hello, Mirabelle," Harry smiled and kissed her cheek.

Ron was still holding the door open, his mouth to match. He noticed that Malfoy hadn't taken his eyes off Harry. He also noticed that his expression was _not_ one of a former Death Eater glaring at the Auror who hounded him at his place of business.

Mirabelle held out her hand to Ron. "I'm Mirabelle Goodwin. I work for Mr. Malfoy," she said. "No need to tell me who you are."

Ron took her hand and mumbled, "Nice to meet you."

"May I have a word?" she requested of him. She didn't wait for him to respond. Linking her arm in his, she pulled him away from Harry and Draco, who were still silently staring at one another.

As Mirabelle directed him across the alley, Ron continued to turn around and watch the two men.

"No fucking way," he finally said when they came to a stop. "Malfoy had taken Harry and kept him all that time?"

"Mr. Malfoy didn't take him. He wandered into the shop. Mr. Malfoy-Draco, cared for him and did his best to recover his memories," she told him.

"Fucking Hell," Ron muttered. "Harry can't be in love with Malfoy of all people."

"Did he say that? He's in love with Mr.- Draco? Then why hasn't he come back 'round?"

"Ask your boss. Apparently, he shot Harry down. Typical Malfoy. He was probably just pretending the whole time so he could get back at Harry."

"No, no," she protested. "He's been miserable."

"Good."

Mirabelle shot Ron a look. "Draco didn't share details with me, of course. But he gave me the impression that Harry was the one who broke things off. Once he remembered their past, he said it wouldn't work. I did think Harry went to see him again, but then . . . nothing."

"Well, of course not!" Ron said. "They hate each other."

"There's a fine line between love and hate," Mirabelle smirked.

Thinking about his sometime tumultuous relationship with Hermione, Ron couldn't disagree. But Harry and Malfoy? That wasn't just teasing insults. They seemed truly ready to kill one another at times.

"Maybe," Ron conceded. "But it doesn't matter, Harry said he went back to say he was sorry. He said it was too late. Isn't Malfoy moving to Paris?" he asked hopefully. "I guess that's it then. Right?"

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Meanwhile Harry and Draco stood at the entrance to the tavern, neither knowing exactly what to say. A customer walked out, nearly hitting Harry with the door.

"I suppose we'd better move out of the way," Harry suggested. He took Draco's arm and pulled him to a small space next to the old brick building. He looked down at his hand touching Draco in such a familiar manner. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled and removed his hand.

The conversation began with small talk. "So, are you in town to check up on the shop?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Draco asked, "What do you mean?"

"Haven't you moved to Paris?"

"No, I . . . the only reason for moving to Paris was - " Draco stammered. "Well, it isn't necessary now."

They remained quiet for a moment, each reflecting on the events that changed their plans.

Breaking the silence, Draco asked generically, "How have you been? Back on the job, I suppose. Catching bad guys?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "I'm not back in the field yet." He paused. "I'm miserable."

"Then why don't you get back out into the field?"

"You know that's not what I meant. Why are you being like this?"

"Like what?"

"Acting like I'm a mere acquaintance. But I know you still have feelings for me. I can see it in your eyes."

Draco's stance softened. "Harry, why are you doing this to yourself? We can't be more than acquaintances. Just look at Weasley over there, glaring at us. At _me_, I should say." He gestured toward the crowds of people in the alley. "Do you think any of them will react differently?

"Don't look at them. Look at me." Harry commanded. "I'm the one who knows you. My regard for you is the only one you should be concerned with. I don't care a whit what any of them think, including Ron."

"You should. The Harry I know wouldn't throw over his best friend for sex."

"But I might for love," Harry replied gently.

"You're as loyal as a labrador," Draco chuckled. "As _either_ Harry." His smile faded. "The problem is, each Harry is loyal to a different . . . kind of love. You shouldn't have to give up one for the other."

"Why do I have to? I'm willing to try. You don't have to let me move back in or anything. But I've just been going through the motions. I miss you. I miss us. Please tell me you haven't moved on."

Draco blushed as Harry's speech began to attract attention of passersby. He stood dumbstruck while several people stopped and stared at the odd couple. They appeared keenly interested in Draco's response.

"All right, on your way then," Ron waved the gawkers away. "Maybe you'd better find a more private place to talk."

"No. Not until he answers me."

Ron had no idea what Harry had asked. But now that he was seeing them up close and personal, it was plain as day that there was passion between Harry and Draco. He had to admit that he'd never seen Harry in such a desperate state over anybody before.

"No. I haven't moved on," Draco said quietly, and Harry faltered slightly with relief. He grabbed the blond's hand and disapparated them away.

Mirabelle sauntered up beside Ron, who'd been left by the pair.

"I guess that's not it after all," she grinned. "And no, he isn't moving. He _was_ planning to, with Harry. But that was before Harry got his memory back, when he was Mr. Redmond, wearing a glamour."

Ron's eyes widened. "You mean that was Harry I saw with Malfoy? He acted more like a pet than a boyfriend,"

Mirabelle giggled. "Yes, well, Harry was a bit like a lost puppy when he first came to us."

"So Malfoy took advantage," Ron stated.

"Oh, I don't know about that," she smiled. "Harry was rather aggressive in his pursuit."

"Pursuit of what?"

"The most eligible gay wizard I've ever seen."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "Harry went after _him_?"

Mirabelle laughed at Ron's reaction. "He was very romantic, I might add. I don't think Mr. Malfoy could have resisted any harder than he did. But Harry was so smitten." She giggled again.

"Ugh." Ron stuck his tongue out. "I didn't need to hear about that." He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Then you're telling me that Malfoy actually tried to act . . . honorably?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes," Ron laughed, then considered the facts. "But, I suppose, maybe he has changed a bit since school," he added begrudgingly.

"Where's Harry?" a familiar voice asked from behind. "And who's this?"

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

"Where are we?" Draco asked.

"Where no one can disturb us. My home," Harry answered. It was an impulse to take Draco there when they disapparated from the Leaky Cauldron. He hoped it wasn't terribly messy.

Draco looked around. The place was as warm and inviting as Harry himself. Though not quite as orderly as Draco's flat, it was clean and neat, with only a few things askew. It appeared lived-in, yet not untidy. And though he didn't actually count them, Draco guessed there to be about twenty photographs of friends and family. Far more than he himself displayed.

As he looked around, his own name on the wall caught his eye. Then he took a step back and realized what he was looking at.

"Is this my mother's family tree? Why is it on your wall?"

"This was Sirius' family home. He willed it to me before he died."

"And why did you keep this?" Draco was curious.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. It has historical significance, I guess. I wasn't sure what to do with it."

Draco ran his hand over the tapestry, touching his mother's name. He touched some of the burn marks as well. He realized that his mother's sister, Andromeda, was missing.

"Drake." Harry's voice immediately drew his attention. "Forget the tapestry. It's just you and me. I meant everything I said back there. I love you. But if you tell me you don't feel the same way," Harry swallowed. "I won't bother you again."

"It won't be easy," Harry continued. "I know that people will stare and talk about us, like they did in the alley. But here, or in your place, we can be ourselves."

Draco finally spoke. "I'm not sure who we are anymore. Are we Harry and Draco, or Drake and Redmond? One feels like strangers and the other, a fantasy."

Harry smiled. "I know what you mean. Sometimes I think back on how I was before . . . before I forgot who I was. I don't like who I see, especially in recent years. Particularly in regards to you, but in other ways too. My life had become monotonous, work driven. No highs, no lows, just existing."

Listening quietly, Draco sat down on a nearby chair. Harry followed suit sitting on the small sofa.

"I'm ashamed to admit this, but going into your shop and riling you up gave me more pleasure than any of the trysts and so-called relationships I tried to be have."

"I always knew you were a sadist," Draco remarked with a smirk. It was the first hint of a smile since they ran into each other in Diagon Alley. Even during an awkward and difficult conversation, it was hard for Draco not to fall into the easy rapport he had developed with Harry.

"To be honest," Harry began. "I abused my position as an Auror to harass you. I know that. You must have hated me for it. What I couldn't be honest about is why. I'm not sure if I even understood why."

Draco stood silent, waiting for the explanation.

"At first, I really did think I needed to keep an eye on your business dealings. But, then, you changed. Or maybe you didn't. Maybe I just didn't see you for you before. Either way, you moved on. You grew up and became successful doing something you loved to do. And I was still chasing the bad guys, making the wizarding world safe. I hadn't changed, hadn't grown, and wasn't doing anything I loved. My relationship with Ginny was a joke. Every chance I got, I was sneaking off with some bloke I barely knew. She finally broke up with me." Harry hung his head at the admission. "I was jealous of you. I was miserable. And I wanted to bring you down with me."

"Misery loves company?"

"Exactly," Harry nodded. "Only, I couldn't admit that I wanted _your_ company."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "_My_ company? You mean, bullying me was your way of flirting?"

"I don't think it was quite that conscious. But I did admire the way you rose above all the shit that surrounded you."

Thinking back on the times Harry entered his shop to check his receipts and inventory, Draco couldn't recall any actual flirting. He did recall, however, Mirabelle making several comments implying that Harry was using his job as an excuse to check out Draco's arse. Of course he dismissed them as jests at the time.

"Can you not forgive me?" Harry asked. "I'll beg, if I have to."

"Potter, if I didn't forgive you for that, I never would have taken you in."

"You said 'for that'. Is there something for which you can't forgive me?"

"It's not about forgiveness," Draco tried to explain. "It's just that-" He looked away. "I don't know if I could take it if you left me again."

"I'm so sorry," Harry offered desperately. "When Hermione told me about Teddy, I felt I really couldn't _not_ go with her. He's just a child, and he needs me."

"I needed you too. I've only just gotten used to not having you around anymore. Mostly." He chanced a glance at Harry's eyes.

"And you've shut yourself off again." Harry remembered how difficult it was for Draco to open himself up to Harry. He gave Harry his tender heart and the first chance he got, Harry stepped on it.

Draco began picking at his perfectly manicured nails.

"I probably don't deserve another chance," Harry said. "But now I've got both eyes wide open. I promise to-"

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Draco warned.

"Okay. I promise to try my best to make this work." He smiled shyly. "How about that?"

"That's good." Draco smiled back. "Are you sure you want to subject yourself to the criticism you'll receive by choosing . . . someone like me?"

"Not someone _like_ you. _You_."

"Harry, I don't know," Draco said softly.

Harry closed his eyes. "Please," he whispered. It reminded him of Draco's own plea when Harry first broke things off. His eyes popped open. "I'll have myself _Obliviated_. I'll give up being an Auror. I'll wear the glamour. We can still move to France." He was getting desperate.

"Harry, I don't want you to do that."

"Then what do I have to do? I'll do it."

"Just be you. The _whole_ you. If you still think you can . . . love me . . ."

The lightbulb finally went on.

"Is that what you think? Only the Redmond part of me loves you?" Harry stood. "Drake, I remember everything you told him, er, me. There were so many things I didn't understand about you before. I do now. I've seen the way you've turned yourself around. And now that all of my memories have been integrated, and I've come to term with my emotions, I can honestly say that I'm in love with you. Harry Potter is in love with Draco Malfoy."

Draco remained seated. He wanted to believe Harry more than anything. The man was just as persistent as he had been as Redmond.

"But are you in love with me?" Harry asked. "Or are you in love with him?"

"You _are_ him," Draco reminded Harry.

"That's not really an answer."

Draco lowered his gaze. "You know I am," he said quietly.

There was no joyful revelation, no running into one another's arms as Harry had hoped.

"But you don't trust me. I've broken your heart to protect my own pride. I wish more than anything I had waited to speak with you after regaining my memory. I was advised not to make any life altering decisions until all my memories were integrated. I was advised to continue with therapy, which I arrogantly refused. It's the single biggest regret I have in recent years, if it's cost me you."

Draco stood, and Harry followed suit. He believed Harry was sincere and he did miss the pair of them together.

"I need to think about it," Draco finally said, encouraging Harry. "Things would be different. Compromises would have to be made. The real world is a harsh place compared to my flat and my shop."

"I know. I'm willing to do whatever it takes," Harry dared to hope.

Draco tried to disapparate. "Why can't I leave?" So much for his dramatic exit.

"Sorry. Charms for protection. I'll show you the door." Harry secretly hoped Draco would stay so they could talk things out.

As he walked out Harry's front door, Draco turned. "Just give me some time."

"As long as you need." Harry wasn't sure what he had just agreed to. He had given complete control over their relationship, or lack thereof, to Draco. He put himself in limbo, for who knew how long. All he could do was wait for Draco to decide if and when he would take Harry back.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

"Ahem," Hermione cleared her throat, waiting for an answer to her question.

While Ron stood like a deer in the headlamps, Mirabelle held out her hand and smiled.

"Mirabelle Goodwin, Mrs. Weasley. It's quite a pleasure to meet you."

Hermione took the offered hand. "Harry's told me about you. He speaks of you quite fondly."

"I'm fond of Harry as well," she smiled.

Looking around, slightly confused, Hermione asked again, "Where is Harry?"

"Uh," Ron stammered. "He's, um, not here."

"I can see that," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I thought we were having supper with him. Was this a ruse to get out of eating my Shepherd's pie?" She hit him with the back of her hand across his shoulder.

"No, I swear," Ron put his hands up in defense. "We were planning to meet you here, but . . ."

"He and Draco went somewhere together," Mirabelle interrupted.

Hermione's eyebrows rose.

"I have something to tell you, Mione. You probably better sit down for this," Ron said solemnly.

"I already know, Ron." She bit her lip.

"What? I knew it," Ron grumbled.

Hermione turned to Mirabelle. "What happened? Harry said Draco was in Paris."

"No. The new shop is there, but he still has this shop to run. Actually, I'll be in charge of the Apothecary in France. I'm learning French," she squealed. "It's so exciting."

Hermione couldn't help smiling along with her. Harry had told her all about his time at the Dragon's Lair. She could see why Harry enjoyed Mirabelle's company.

Mirabelle hooked her arm around Hermione's much the way she had done with Ron. "Come inside. I'll fill you in. With any luck, Harry and Drake- that's what Harry used to call him, will be back together in no time."

Hermione giggled as the girls walked into the Leaky Cauldron, forgetting all about Ron. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. Women and their romantic ideas.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

* * *

**At least Harry got to explain himself- to Ron and Draco**


	11. when you're too in love to let it go

***I was actually pleasantly surprised by most reactions to last chapter. Maybe there was a little frustration, but most of you didn't mind that Draco needed some time to think. You know what they say-absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or is that forgetful? You'll find out soon enough :)**

**LalalaSpacingInPandaLand- I'm assuming you meant the part where Draco didn't go running into Harry's arms. I think I would have been a little wary too.**

**rileygar25- I didn't want to rush it. The story is almost over as it is :(**

**luvsallthingsslash- you're welcome. Thank you!**

**ClaireBouldwin- thank you for your kind words!**

**The Angel Redemption- step away from the video games . . . lol. Try to stay focused on this chapter-it's a good one :)**

**cassy1994- yes, it takes time . . . that's the patience part, ha ha**

**jememj- we all wanna hug Draco! :)**

**WitchRavenFox- can't you just see Harry making Draco run all over the shop just so he can watch him ;) good thing Mirabelle is so observant or Draco may not have fully believed Harry's story**

**Kisa167- I really debated having Hermione and Mirabelle cook up a scheme to get the boys back together, but I decided in the end that whatever happens should be their own motives**

**Thanks also to FantasyFiend09, BloodyRose90, Evi15, Antybioda, ThexHallowsxGirl, beautiesrosemightneverdie, eisforerica, Princessmelodina, YaDiz96, Clary girl two, and earthstar for reading and reviewing. And thanks to everyone who has put this on alert or added to favorites!**

**Thanks, Jo Rowling for creating these ambiguously gay characters that I love to exploit!**

* * *

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day one hundred four, Friday

With the help of Aurors in New Zealand, Nazar Duncan was brought to the London Ministry of Magic to answer for his crimes.

As Ron had suspected, Harry had gone to the reported hiding place of the criminal. Thinking it would be a simple matter of capturing Duncan and sending him off to the Ministry, Harry was caught off guard when he found not only Nazar, but two other Death Eaters as well.

In a panic, Duncan tried to erase Harry's recollection of finding him. But being inexperienced with Neustadt's methods, he couldn't control the flow of magic and it had grown out of his command. His companions urged him to take more of the Auror's memories, and were impressed by the great bollocks Duncan showed in the way he dared to fuck with Potter's mind. In reality, Nazar Duncan was a mediocre wizard and simply couldn't stop what he inadvertently started until Harry was left without any recollection of the wizarding world.

The three Death Eaters dumped an unconscious Harry behind the shop in which they were hiding, and fled. When Harry came to, he was groggy and disoriented, but unharmed physically.

Nazar Duncan was quickly tried for crimes unrelated to his assault on Harry and sent to Azkaban.

"I must say, Harry, I don't understand why you're not pressing charges," Minister Shacklebolt said. "Though we really don't need you to make the misuse of magic and assault of an Auror charges stick."

"They're misdemeanors," Harry said. "He'll be in prison long enough with all the other charges against him."

"Still," Shacklebolt sighed. "I don't know how you can refrain from getting at least a little revenge."

"I'm not up to the rigors of a trial. I'd like to put it behind me."

What Harry wasn't telling the Minister was that he'd feel like a hypocrite pressing charges against the man who, ultimately, led him to the love of his life. If Harry hadn't lost his memory, he would never have gotten to know Draco the way he had. He wouldn't have re-examined his life and actions so closely. It may have taken Harry years to figure out just how unhappy and unfulfilling his life was. It probably would have taken him even longer to figure out why he visited Draco's shop so frequently. And by then, it most likely would have been too late to do anything about it.

What weighed on Harry's mind most these days, was that it was too late already. He hadn't heard from Draco in a couple of weeks. The longer it took for him to decide if he was willing to take another chance with Harry, the more likely the answer would be 'no'.

Harry chuckled to himself as he thought he should be thanking Nazar Duncan for his actions. At least he had two wonderful months with Draco because of him. Of course, he wasn't about to explain all that to Shacklebolt.

"I understand, Harry," The Minister disrupted Harry's musings. "It's good to have you back in full force." Shacklebolt clapped him on the back.

"Yes, sir."

"See you Monday, Harry." Shacklebolt stepped into the fireplace and disappeared into a cloud of green.

Harry stood for a moment as others walked around him to get into fireplaces to be on their ways. He didn't want to go home, but he didn't want to go out either. As he stood, other wizards would occasionally look at him as if they were trying to figure something out. Since the scene at the Leaky Cauldron, rumors were rampant, and he could feel the stares of curiosity. Neither man addressed the rumors publicly. Only Ron, Hermione and Mirabelle knew the true story.

He sighed, stepped into the fireplace and soon found himself in the Black family home. Wearily, he walked down to the kitchen and began making himself supper. He never did purchase a new cookbook, so his meal consisted of porridge and rashers.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Harry pushed food around his plate, taking a few small bites now and then. He wasn't really hungry. But he could practically hear Hermione and Molly in his head telling him he need to keep his strength up.

His mind began to wander. He remembered snippets of his time in Draco's flat. Reading by the window, sharing a quiet meal, snuggling close in bed. His own house was so empty and lonely. His chest literally ached because of it. A bottle of firewhiskey on the counter caught his eye. He decided that he liked it better when he couldn't remember and grabbed the bottle, leaving his mostly uneaten supper.

Harry took a swig and walked into the drawing room, plopping himself on the sofa. He tipped the bottle into his mouth once more and downed as much as he could in a single gulp.

He flipped on the Wizard Wireless Network and lay on the couch listening to music while continuing to down the practically new bottle of firewhiskey. Before long, the bottle was almost half gone and Harry could hardly see straight. But at least he wasn't pining away for Draco.

His eyelids grew heavy. He was nearly unconscious when the doorbell rang.

"Bollocks," Harry muttered. The last thing he wanted was company, even though he knew it was most likely Ron and Hermione coming to cheer him up. He opened the door ready to give the '_I'm fine_' speech.

"You look like shit," Draco said as he stood there smirking.

All Harry was capable of doing was stare with his mouth open. And hiccup.

"Lovely," Draco said dryly. "May I come in?'

Harry stood back, allowing him to enter the house. He led him to the drawing room and sat on the couch. The room had begun spinning and Harry wasn't sure how long he could stand. Draco took a seat at the other end.

"How did you find me?" Harry asked, frowning.

"You brought me here. Don't you remember?"

"Oh yeah." Harry tried to focus, but the effects of the alcohol made it difficult.

"Have I come at a bad time?" Draco noted Harry's state and the half-downed bottle of firewhiskey on the floor.

"That depends on why you came," Harry answered.

"Do you have coffee?"

"You came for coffee?" Harry slurred his words. "Why didn't you just go to one of your muggle places? Buckaroos or whatever."

Draco chuckled. "Starbucks? _I_ don't want coffee, I want to make some for you. You're pissed out of your mind and I can't talk to you like this. Do you have coffee?" he asked again.

"Think so," Harry answered wearily.

Draco got up and walked down to the kitchen in search of the caffeinated beverage. He noticed the partially eaten meal on the table.

"No wonder you're plastered- drinking on an empty stomach," he said to himself out loud.

Rifling through the cabinets, he saw little in the way of food items. Finally, he found what he was looking for and set a pot to brew. While he was at it, he also set the few dirty dishes to clean themselves and walked back up to the drawing room.

"Potter, when was the last time you had a decent-" His shoulders slumped when he saw Harry passed out against the corner of the sofa. "meal," he finished.

He sighed and carefully scooted Harry down into a prone position and placed a cushion under his head. Spotting a small blanket on the back of the chair, Draco covered Harry and began stroking his unruly hair.

"How could I possibly have missed this mop?" He asked himself.

But he did. He missed everything about Harry.

The smell of coffee began to fill the air. Draco got up and went back into the kitchen to tend to the now unnecessary brew.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day One hundred five, very early morning Saturday

Some time later, Harry slowly opened his eyes. The house was quiet, as usual. For a moment, he remembered Draco coming to visit, but shook it off thinking it must have been a dream. He closed his eyes again and started to sink back into the couch.

"Shit," someone said from the kitchen.

Harry's eyes sprung open and he sat up quickly, causing his stomach to lurch. He managed to keep from vomiting somehow and gingerly made his way to the kitchen.

What he saw was about the last thing he expected. Draco was busy at Harry's stove, making bangers and mash. Currently, he was running his hand under the cold faucet.

"When did you learn how to cook?" Harry asked, startling the blond.

"Oh," Draco turned around. "Well, I'm still learning." He held up his hand. "Burned it."

Harry took out his wand and waved it over the burn, healing it.

"Thanks," Draco said sheepishly.

"You could have done that yourself," Harry smirked.

"I didn't want to stop turning the sausages. I was afraid they'd burn. I'm still not very good at this."

Harry glanced around. Except for the stove, his kitchen had been cleaned and he noticed the pot of coffee on the counter.

"Were you here last night? Did you stay here?"

"No, I got you some much needed groceries. And an even more necessary hangover potion." Draco retrieved a small vial from his pocket and handed it to Harry.

"Thank you." Harry gratefully accepted it and drank it down. His stomach had been doing flips since he first entered the kitchen. Almost immediately, his headache disappeared and his stomach settled. Draco truly was the best Potions Master around.

"You reek of firewhiskey. And your hair . . ." Draco rolled his eyes playfully. "Why don't you go clean yourself up while I finish this?"

Feeling hopeful, Harry nodded. At that point he would have done anything Draco asked of him. He still wasn't sure if Draco was there to reconcile with him or let him down easy.

Moving as quickly as he could, Harry went up to the bath, brushed his teeth and stepped into the shower. He shampooed his hair twice to be certain it was clean. It had been months since his last hair cut and was getting out of control. He even put conditioner in it, hoping he could tame it somewhat. He had been neglecting his looks lately, but he wanted to look his best for Draco.

By the time Harry turned off the water, he was probably the most thoroughly clean he had ever been in his life. He wrapped a fluffy yellow towel around his waist and took a smaller one to his hair.

When he walked into his bedroom, Draco was standing by his dresser looking at a photograph of Harry with Ron and Hermione.

"Oh," Harry started. He dropped his hair towel and tried to smooth out his damp locks.

Turning quickly, Draco knocked over the photo and clumsily righted it. "Sorry. I was just, um . . . you were taking so long, I wanted to see if you were all right. A horrid little elf showed me the way here. I brought your food," he said awkwardly and gestured toward the small bedside table.

"Kreacher," Harry said. "He thinks nothing of privacy."

"He seemed eager to serve me," Draco said. "In fact, he insisted."

"Yes, well, you are a Black. He serves the House of Black. Always has."

"Right," Draco nodded, distracted by the small rivulets of water dripping from Harry's hair and slowly running down his chest.

"So," Harry swallowed, gathering up the nerve to ask what he had been wanting to know. "Why are you here? Are you softening me up with a home-cooked meal to break it to me gently? Or are you-"

"In love with you," Draco finished. "Harry, I miss you."

They each took a few steps forward, meeting in the middle with a kiss. Though he had been dying to snog Draco since seeing him at the leaky Cauldron, Harry pulled back to clarify.

"What happened to your doubts?"

"I still have them," Draco admitted. He saw Harry's smile waver. "Not about you. About everyone else."

"There are rumors going around about us anyway," Harry said.

"I've heard them. Unless you tell what really happened to you while you were gone, the rumors will only get worse. I think most people already think I've cursed you somehow."

Harry frowned. "But if I tell everything, some overzealous twit at the Ministry may try to bring you up on charges-kidnapping or holding me against my will. They won't understand. They'll screw everything up."

"I wasn't exactly innocent," Draco reminded him.

"I don't care. People can think what they want. I've already given my official statement. I'm not going to sacrifice you to save face."

"That's what I love about you. You're everyone's hero," Draco smiled.

Harry shook his head. "Not everyone's. Not any more. Just yours."

He leaned forward to properly snog his lover, who responded with equal vigor. Between kisses, Draco began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I'm overdressed."

"Me too," Harry smiled and slipped off the towel from his waist. The pair then swiftly removed the rest of Draco's clothing.

Harry laughed softly. "I'm actually more nervous now than the first time."

"You're nervous? Now that you have your memory back, I have competition," Draco laughed.

"That's only fair. I had competition the whole time," Harry pointed out.

"No, you didn't," Draco told him, his tome becoming serious. "No one compares with you."

Harry kissed Draco, gently pushing him backward toward the bed. Draco let himself fall back when his legs touched the footboard. He pulled Harry down with him.

Being the aggressor as he usually was, Harry kept Draco pinned as he ran his tongue over the perfect white teeth, and into Draco's mouth. He rolled his hips, rubbing their erections together. Draco's hand found its way down Harry's back to his firm round arse. His fingers caressed the crease before pushing between the cheeks.

"Accio lube," Harry said as he sat up, straddling Draco's hips. He poured a bit onto his own fingers and generously coated his opening and just inside. He poured a bit more and coated their cocks.

Harry cried out as he lowered himself onto Draco's shaft in one swift movement. Draco moaned as well. It had been far too long since they were last intimate. But they moved in rhythm, easily, naturally as though they hadn't been apart at all.

Draco, overcome with emotion, professed his love once again. So content to be in Harry's arms, he didn't feel vulnerable or guarded. He felt free. And loved. For the first time, fear of rejection wasn't holding him back.

He watched Harry climax as he felt his own. Nothing could have been more perfect.

After a clean up spell, the lovers lay in each other's arms. Harry was about to doze off when Draco spoke.

"So, how was that compared to your other lovers?" he asked, expecting to hear that it was spectacular beyond belief.

"I can't remember," Harry replied with a smirk.

"What?"

"You've just obliterated all memory of any others I may have had," he chuckled. "But it was even better than the first time."

Harry kissed the tip of Draco's nose, then rested his head on his shoulder. They lay dreamily looking up at the ceiling.

"I want you to come back to live with me," Draco said.

Harry hesitated. "Your flat is on the small side. Teddy stays with me quite a bit these days. I have lost time to make up with him."

"Oh, I forgot about him. Do you know that I've never even met him?" Draco found it strange that Harry was so close to his own cousin, when Draco hadn't been even remotely interested in getting to know the boy. Then again, Draco hadn't really known Tonks well either, thanks to the Black family discord.

"You'd love him. He's the sweetest boy."

"Hmm. Children and I do not get along," Draco told him. "But I suppose I ought get to know one of my few remaining relatives."

Harry turned his head slightly to look up at his lover.

"I thought maybe you could move in here," he said hopefully. "I mean, your name is already on the wall. And Kreacher would be more than happy to serve you. Say you'll think about it."

Draco kissed the top of Harry's head. "I'll think about it." He closed his eyes, basking in the warmth he'd been missing for the past month.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Kreacher opened the front door. He frowned when he saw the blood traitor and his mudblood wife standing there. But he bit his tongue for Harry's sake, as his Master wanted him to be nice to the Weasleys.

"Good morning Kreacher," Hermione chirped.

He grunted in response and let the pair inside, leading them to the drawing room.

"Shall Kreacher alert Master Harry to your presence?"

"Please," Hermione smiled. No matter how hard she tried, the elf would not return it.

Kreacher popped out of sight, reappearing in Harry's bedroom.

"Company awaits Harry Potter in the drawing room," he announced.

Yawning and stretching, Harry opened his eyes and sat up. "I'm not expecting company. Send them away."

At the sound of Harry's voice, Draco woke as well. He raised his eyebrows. "Does he barge into your room all the time?" He lay completely nude, but made no move to cover himself up.

"Like I said, no thought to privacy."

"What shall Kreacher tell the blood traitor and his consort?" Kreacher asked. Draco snickered.

"Their names are Ron and Hermione," Harry scolded. "I would prefer you refer to them by their names." He flopped back on the bed and sighed. "Tell them I'll owl them later."

In an instant, Kreacher was gone.

"I could use a little more sleep," Harry remarked.

"Oh, did I keep you up?" Draco teased.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

"Master Harry is still in bed and will owl you later," Kreacher informed the pair. He began to walk to the front door to see them out.

"Still in bed? It's past noon. I'm not going to let him waste his life being depressed in bed."

Ron trotted up the steps, with Kreacher lumbering behind him. He burst into Harry's room to find Harry and Draco lying next to each other nude, but not otherwise engaged, fortunately.

"Bollocks," Ron muttered.

"Indeed," Draco smirked, and turned to Harry. "Your bedroom is awfully busy. I was under the impression that you were miserably pining away for me."

"You could at least cover up," Ron said, covering his eyes.

When Draco made no move to do so, Harry pulled up the sheet. "Ron, what are you doing here? Didn't Kreacher tell you I was busy and I'd owl you later?"

Ron scowled at the house elf. "He left out a tiny detail."

Kreacher shrugged. "Kreacher will be in the kitchen if Master Harry or Master Draco need anything." He winked out of the room.

For an awkward moment, none of the three men knew what to say, until Harry did.

"Ron. Go away."

"Right," Ron said, embarrassed and still averting his eyes, even though the lovers were covered up. "Owl me later."

He quickly left the room and ran down the stairs.

Hermione stood as he entered the drawing room. "What's wrong? Where's Harry?'

"Nothing's wrong," Ron frowned. "He wasn't alone."

"Oh?" Then she realized exactly what Ron meant. "Oh," she grinned.

"Come on," he said and grabbed Hermione's hand.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To find a hot poker to burn out my eyes after that sight," Ron grumbled.

Hermione giggled, imagining what, exactly, Ron had walked in on.

Ron tossed in some floo powder, and they disappeared.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Harry couldn't help laugh out loud once Ron left. "Poor Ron really got more than he bargained for coming up here. I think you scarred him for life."

"That's what he gets for barging into someone's bedroom," Draco replied. "Speaking of which, I think we need to do something to keep your elf out. Wouldn't want him popping in at an inopportune moment."

Propping himself up on an elbow, Harry asked, "We? Are you thinking of moving in here?"

"It does make more sense than you moving into my small flat. My new apprentice can have it." Draco laced his fingers behind his head and grinned. "Besides, my name is already on the wall and everything. And Kreacher adores me," he said smugly.

"As do I," Harry said. "Oh, I have something for you." He jumped up out of bed and went to his dresser. He got back into bed carrying a small silver box.

"What's this?" Draco asked, taking it from Harry's outstretched hand.

"Happy birthday," Harry smiled shyly.

"It's not until tomorrow. And how did you know?"

"Mirabelle," Harry grinned. "I had no idea what to get you. Or if I'd even be able to give it to you." He looked away in an attempt to hide his fear of losing Draco.

"You didn't have to get me anything. My mother threw me enough outrageous parties as a child to put me off birthdays forever," Draco laughed.

"It's really not a big deal. I found it here in Sirius' house and thought you might like it," Harry explained.

Draco opened the box and took out a small bit of cotton wadding. Inside was a gold brooch, something to pin on a cloak or an overcoat. It was the Black family crest, beautifully detailed in cloisonne.

"But don't you want to keep this?" Draco asked. "It belonged to your Godfather."

"It should belong to you," Harry said. "There was always so much emphasis on your being a Malfoy, but you're a Black as well. And there were good people in that family. You should be proud to be part of it."

"Thank you." Draco ran his thumb over the smooth enamel. "This would mean a lot to my mother. She's had to turn her back on people she loved in order to protect me. And it behooved her to keep Bellatrix on her good side. She never talks about it, but I often wonder if she regrets severing ties with her other sister."

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. "I didn't realize this would be such a mood killer. It was supposed to be a good thing."

"It is," Draco smiled. "I'd forgotten that some of the bravest people fighting in the war were related to me. This is a reminder that I've done the right things with my life."

"At least there's nobody left to blast you off the tapestry," Harry joked. He sat up. "Hey, maybe we should have it restored."

Draco smiled. "I'd like that."

Within a few days, and much to Kreacher's delight, Draco had his personal items moved in to Harry's house. As Draco suggested, Harry gave the elf explicit instructions not to enter the bedroom, unless there was an extreme emergency. However, he managed to follow Draco everywhere else in the house offering his services. Unlike Harry, Draco often found things for Kreacher to do, having missed the use of a house elf in his flat.

By week's end, Draco had settled in to 12 Grimmauld Place quite nicely. He wondered how he ever could have doubted it was the right move. Granted, only four days had passed since he moved in. But the pair quickly fell into their past routine, minus Harry working at the shop. Draco admitted that he missed that part. The new apprentice, Crispin, was not yet up to Mirabelle's abilities, and Draco was considering hiring a second one, part time.

At supper that Friday, Draco was feeling pretty good about his future with the Chosen One. His chosen one. The one who chose him. That is, until Harry reminded him that Teddy was due to spend the weekend with them . . .

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

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**For anyone keeping track, there are 15 lines in the song. Not including the mostly instrumental part at the end with the variations of previous lines. Anyway, somehow I've managed to come up with a chapter for each line. (as out of order as they may be) So, obviously that means this story will end at chapter 15.**


	12. could it be worse ch 12

***Not a big preamble this time. This is all about Teddy and Draco. Enjoy!**

**ThexHallowsxGirl- Wonder no more-here's my version of Teddy**

**Guest- Glad you're happy :) And there's just something about an assertive bottom, isn't there?**

**WitchRavenFox- Sorry for starting to mourn already.**

**blueberry709- Mirabelle will make another appearance in the story. I wasn't planning to include Blaise again, but I wonder if I can fit that in . . .**

**Thanks lord print, The Angel Redemption, cassy1994, luvsallthingsslash, Kisa167, Serena-Fair, earthstar, rileygar25, Evi15, LalalaSpacingInPandaLand, jememj, and BloodyRose90 for your kind comments!**

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〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day One Hundred Twelve, Saturday

Predictably, Draco's first meeting with Teddy was uneasy and tense. The boy seemed to have the instinct of an animal, and sensing Draco's discomfort, exploited it. Teddy asked question after question, ranging in subject from his favorite color to why he had the scary tattoo on his arm. Occasionally looking lost, Draco turned to Harry for help.

"I think that's enough questions, Teddy bear," Harry smiled. "Why don't you go into the kitchen. Draco bought some pastries."

"What kind?" Teddy asked suspiciously.

"Um, cherry, prune and lemon," Draco answered, giving a half smile. He knew he would have to win over the boy's affections, or at least tolerance, if his relationship with Harry was to work.

"I_ hate_ cherry and prune," Teddy said as he got up to leave the room.

Draco slumped. "He hates _me_, is what he meant," he said when Teddy was out of earshot.

Harry smiled. "What he meant was that he likes lemon. But he wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of knowing you picked his favorite."

"Because he hates me."

"He's wary. Although he's young, I've explained to him what happened during the war, why his parents died. In simple terms, of course, and not in great detail. I think he was testing you with the question about the Dark Mark."

"Should I not have told him what it was?" Draco asked. He feared saying the wrong thing, as he was trying to gain the boy's trust.

"What you said was perfect. He already knew what it was," Harry said. "The fact that you didn't try to hide it from him was good. And that you said you were sorry you ever got it was even better."

Heartened by Harry's words, Draco felt optimistic that he and Teddy would be able to coexist peacefully. He would have to work hard not to put Harry in a position to have to choose between them. Draco loathed to admit it, but he was a little jealous of the boy that was able to tear Harry away from him in the first place.

"Come on." Harry held his hand out to Draco. "Let's go get some pastry. I love prune."

When they walked hand in hand into the kitchen, Teddy scowled, feeling a bit jealous himself.

"What are we going to do today Harry?"

"Well, Teddy, I thought we could all go to the park," Harry answered.

"All of us?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Draco lives here now. And he'll be doing things with us."

"Oh," Teddy said, biting into a second pastry.

"But we can still do some things together, just you and me," Harry smiled, prompting Teddy to grin and glance at Draco. "Or just you and Draco."

Teddy and Draco had identical horrified looks on their faces.

"Just me and him?" Draco asked before he could stop himself. Teddy didn't appear to like the idea any better.

"Well, yeah. You're family. You really should get to know each other better."

"I thought you were my family, Harry," Teddy cocked his head.

"I am. I'm your Godfather. I've explained that to you. But your grandmama is Draco's aunt. His _real_ aunt. His mum is Grandmama's sister. That makes you his second cousin, or something like that."

"Grandmama is your aunt? Then why haven't you ever come to see her?" Teddy questioned.

"It's complicated," Draco simply said. He was unused to speaking with seven year old children.

Harry sat down next to Teddy. "A family fight started a long time ago. But Draco didn't start it and there wasn't anything he could do to fix it. Maybe you can remedy that though."

"How?" Teddy asked, eyes wide.

"By being friends with Draco," Harry replied. "Then your grandmama will want to be friends with him. And then, maybe Draco's mum. And before you know it, there won't be anymore family fight."

Teddy nodded thoughtfully.

Draco watched Harry with the boy. He wondered how he learned to be such a good father figure, having lost his own father so young. Not only had Harry managed to convince Teddy to give Draco a chance, he gave Draco an opportunity to mend the rift between his mother and her remaining sister. Was there no end to Harry's heroism? Draco resolved to make a connection with Teddy no matter what it took. But he had no idea what that would be. He had a feeling it would take more than lemon pastries.

"Why don't you go get a ball to bring to the park and we'll all have a catch," Harry said to Teddy, who bounded up the stairs to go to his room.

Harry turned to Draco to find him staring adoringly at him. "How do you do it?" Draco asked.

Cocking his head, Harry questioned Draco's meaning.

"You make everyone fall in love with you. That boy adores you. I dare say he would do anything for you."

"Even be nice to you," Harry smirked.

"Well, at least we have one thing in common, then. I'll do anything for you as well." Draco leaned in to kiss Harry, only to have Teddy loudly interrupt.

"Got it! Let's go Harry."

Harry gave Draco a sympathetic look and a small shrug. Draco sighed and followed Harry and the boy to the local public park.

Sitting on a bench, the blond observed the other two while they threw a ball back and forth to one another. Teddy laughed as Harry made silly noises to accompany his tosses. Sometimes, he threw the ball through his legs or faked throwing it to trick the boy.

"Drake, think fast," Harry said as he tossed the ball his way.

Draco looked up just in time to watch the ball hit the back of the bench just next to his head, which he had quickly ducked.

"Ha! You were supposed to catch it," Teddy giggled. "Don't you know how to play ball?"

"I wasn't ready," Draco protested.

"Come on. Join us," Harry called to him.

Sighing, Draco picked up the ball and walked a few steps toward them. Harry smiled and held his hands up prompting Draco to lob the ball. It fell several feet short.

"You throw like a girl," Teddy said, earning him a glare.

"Be nice Teddy bear," Harry admonished. "Draco didn't play with such things when he was a child. I'm sure Draco's father never had a catch with him."

Teddy eyed Draco, who shook his head slightly as confirmation.

Harry initiated another round of catch, including Draco this time, in an attempt build a rapport between two of the most important people in his life. Instead, Teddy purposely flung the ball out of Draco's reach and made snide remarks about his lack of athleticism.

When Draco had finally had enough, he threw the ball far over Teddy's head and stormed back to the house by himself.

"That wasn't very nice," Harry said.

"I just want to play with you," Teddy grumbled. "Why can't it be only us?"

"I told you, Draco lives with me now. You'd better get used to it, shortstuff." Harry ruffled the boy's hair. "He's actually very nice, once you get to know him."

They walked to the bench previously occupied by Draco and sat down.

"Harry? Why does he live with you? Doesn't he have his own house?"

Harry knew he'd have to explain his relationship with Draco to Teddy sooner or later. He wasn't looking forward to it.

"He did. But we wanted to live together. Like Aunt Mione and Uncle Ron."

Teddy laughed. "That's not the same. They're married."

"Actually, Teddy, it is the same. Well, not exactly the same," Harry admitted. "Draco and I aren't married," he chuckled.

"That's silly. You can't marry a boy."

"You're right. I can't marry him. At least not here in the muggle world." Harry turned his body to face Teddy, making sure he had the boy's attention. "But I do love him."

Teddy looked up at Harry, squinting against the sun. He expected Harry to be laughing at his joke, but the expression on Harry's face told him that he was very serious.

"And he loves me."

"But . . . he's a boy."

"Yes, I know," Harry snickered. "It's different than what most people are used to. Some people don't like it, and they'll say nasty things about us."

"Then why don't you find a girl?" Teddy asked innocently.

Harry smiled. "I tried that. Didn't work out so well. Teddy, we can't help who we like. It just so happens that I like men better than women. Can you understand that?"

Teddy furrowed his brow and nodded. "I've seen the man at the bakery kissing a man behind the curtain that separates the back of the shop. I guess he likes men more than women, too."

"Yeah, Mr. Ashton is like me, and Draco. And other wizards. We're not the only ones," Harry said. "There are some girls that only like other girls."

Teddy's eyes went wide. "Really? Well, that's not so bad. Girls are pretty. I can see why a girl would like another girl."

Harry laughed. Teddy's reasoning definitely seemed one of a boy that leaned toward heterosexuality. It relieved Harry to think that his Godson wouldn't end up the subject of ridicule and intolerance. Lost in his own thoughts, Harry almost didn't hear Teddy's own confession.

"Hattie is pretty."

"Hattie Dunston? Down the street from us?"

Teddy nodded. "Yeah," he sighed.

"You like Hattie?" Harry nudged him.

"No," Teddy said indignantly. He gave Harry a sideways glance. "Well, maybe a little."

"She's three years older than you."

"Two and a half," Teddy corrected.

"Oh. Well, that does make a difference," Harry chuckled.

"Don't make fun," Teddy chastised.

"I'm sorry, Teddy bear. I suppose I thought you were a little young for love."

"Love?" Teddy stuck out his tongue. "I don't want to kiss her or anything. I only like the way she can play sport with the boys. She's wicked at football."

"I've seen her," Harry said. "She's a muggle you know."

"I know. But I can't help it," Teddy told him. He gasped. "Is that what you meant?"

"Yes. I didn't choose to like boys. I just can't help it. The way you can't help liking Hattie Dunston."

"And you can't help loving Draco?"

"I love him because he's a wonderful person. You'll see when you get to know him."

"What if I _don't_ like him, and I can't help it?" Teddy asked.

Harry sighed. "Then I'll be sad. But I'm not giving either of you up, so the two of you will just have to learn to get along. Come on. Let's go back and see how he's doing."

They walked back to the house and found Draco in the kitchen plating some cold crab and shrimp with malt vinegar and cocktail sauce. He smiled when the pair walked in.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

"I went to one of my favorite stalls and brought back some lunch for us," Draco answered. "I'm sorry I acted like such a prat earlier."

Harry nudged Teddy and raised his eyebrows at him.

"Oh. Um, I'm sorry I poked fun at you," Teddy offered, somewhat insincerely.

"No harm done. Have a seat. This is the freshest seafood you'll ever eat," Draco said proudly.

"I'm allergic to shellfish," Teddy told him.

"Of course you are," Draco muttered under his breath. "I could make up some bangers quickly," he offered, trying to smile.

"Harry, I was hoping we would get some Chinese takeaway." Teddy looked up at Harry as sweetly as possible. Andromeda rarely ordered takeaway, so when he was at Harry's, he usually requested pizza or Chinese food. "Please? Grandmama never orders."

"All right," Harry gave in.

"But-" Draco snorted.

"Draco and I will eat the seafood and you can order whatever you'd like." Harry glanced at Draco, who was on the verge of losing his temper again. "For now, why don't you go watch the telly."

As soon as Teddy left the kitchen, Draco began his tirade.

"I can't believe you just gave in to him. You know he was playing you. He probably isn't even really allergic to shellfish."

"Actually he is. But there was no way for you to know that. This was a lovely gesture." Harry sat down in front of a plate and scooped a small amount of cocktail sauce onto his plate.

Slowly, Draco sat down across from him and began eating. It really was the freshest seafood, and he didn't want it to go to waste.

"You can't let Teddy get to you," Harry broke the silence. "He's been with me for several years now. Since he was out of diapers. For the past year, when he comes here, it's been just the two of us. He's not used to sharing me."

"What about when you were with the she-weas- um, I mean Ginny Weasley? Did he torment her the same way?"

"Honestly? No. But, perhaps that was because he sensed that she wasn't really a threat. Maybe he realized she could never take me away from him."

"And he thinks I will?"

"I've told him that I won't give up either of you. And I'll tell you also, I need the two of you to get along. I need both of you. I don't expect you and Teddy to suddenly become best chums. But you're the adult. He's seven. You're going to have to take the high road."

Draco nodded in agreement. Unfortunately, growing up as an only child himself, he wasn't accustomed to sharing or not getting his way. The way Teddy pushed his buttons seemed to turn him into a temper-tantrum throwing child. Even more so than Harry when they were at Hogwarts.

"I'll try my best, Harry."

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Later that night, as Draco and Harry lay in bed, a storm began to roll in. The gentle sound of rain on the roof lulled them into a relaxed state, and washed away the stress of the day.

Rolling onto his side, Draco began to draw light circles on Harry's chest with his finger tip. Harry grinned and climbed on top of his lover. He kissed his neck while he ground his hips.

"I've been waiting for this all day," Harry whispered. "I want to-"

A knock at the door interrupted him. "Harry?" a small voice called.

"Fuck," Draco muttered.

Harry pulled away and looked at Draco for a moment.

Sighing, Draco pushed Harry back gently. "You should answer it."

Reluctantly, Harry got up and opened the door to find Teddy standing there with a blanket and stuffed dragon.

"I'm scared."

"It's only a storm. Go ahead back to your room," Harry said gently.

"I want to stay with you," Teddy pleaded. Occasionally, Harry would let Teddy share his bed during a storm. He would never have told Teddy, but he didn't mind the company himself. Not that he was afraid of thunder and lightning, but he never slept well as the lights and sounds reminded him of the war.

"Teddy, there's no room."

Just then, a particularly loud crack of thunder shook the house. Teddy leapt forward, clutching Harry's legs tightly.

"Please Harry?" he begged.

Harry turned toward Draco, who was already out of bed, putting on a robe.

"It's all right," he said. "I'll sleep in the guest room." He didn't wait for Harry to respond. He left the room trying his best not to appear upset about the turn of events.

_ Taking the high road_, he thought to himself. _ I'm taking the high road._

It was a mantra that he repeated to himself frequently whenever Teddy stayed with them.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

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**In case anyone thinks Teddy is too young to be girl watching, I remember having my first crush in first grade. A cute boy named Gregory with black hair and brown eyes :) I think I was even younger the first time a boy showed me his junk. LOL It was a group thing, though, and I had to reciprocate. God, no wonder I write this stuff!**


	13. tears are streaming down your face ch 13

***Sounds like we all like the dark hair and eyes . . . I love you people! You make me feel normal, when you could have all said I was a pervert from a young age. lol**

**Flounder123 and Earthstar- I prefer to think of Teddy as just a kid acting out of jealousy and insecurity rather than a bully. I imagine that Draco is like a step parent and most kids aren't too thrilled at the prospect.**

**greeneyed-angiebaby- Just to clarify the junk-showing. . . It was really just a quick flash between four curious five or six year olds. ha ha But I'm glad I'm not the only one! And doesn't having to act like the adult suck sometimes? I still throw pissy fits occasionally :)**

**luvsallthingsslash- aw, maybe you ought to do something about that crush :) And I happened to take a peek at your profile-the movie is Final Destination-the first one.**

**MakeupDiva88- eeww, a three way between H/D/B . . . 'nough said.**

**Princessmelodina- Thanks! I go for lemon myself**

**FantasyFiend09- Of course there's more conflict. lol I couldn't let them just live happily ever after. At least not yet**

**SSS-Severus Snape Supporter- Ha ha! I remember what it looked like too-SO different from what I found 12 years later! I would love to know how Gregory turned out . . . too bad I can't remember his last name**

**Thanks to BloodyRose90, LalalaSpacingInPandaLand, ClaireBouldwin, Her Pillow James, Clary girl two, blueberry709, cassy1994, Charlie, tflover98, QuirkyKitty93, rileygar25, and Guests for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day One Hundred Forty-Six, Friday

"I did not!"

"You did too. I know you did."

"Did not!"

"Did too! You little shit."

Harry covered his face with his hands and slumped over the kitchen table.

"No, I didn't, you stupid . . . you stupid . . . Death Eater!"

Draco was stunned into silence. Of all the insults Teddy could come up with, that one seemed to cut him to the quick. Too late, Teddy realized he'd gone a bit too far. Especially considering that he had actually done the deed he was so fiercely denying.

"So, that's what you really think," Draco said calmly and quietly.

"I didn't mean it," Teddy said. "I was just mad, Harry. I'm sorry."

They both looked at Harry, still with his head down.

"Harry?" Draco questioned.

Teddy repeated the sentiment. He and Draco looked at each other accusingly.

When Harry lifted his head, his eyes were rimmed red. He wiped away a stray tear and stood up, pushing his plate of food away.

"I'm going to bed," he announced.

"But it's only half-seven," Draco said.

"Yes, I know," Harry said sternly. "Teddy's been here a whole half an hour and the two of you have been at each other's throats the entire time. I can't take it any more. I'd rather go to bed than listen to one more minute."

Harry stomped out of the kitchen in a huff, leaving Draco and Teddy speechless. For a minute, anyway.

"You always have to start something," Draco accused.

"You're such a meanie."

"Expecting you to follow rules is not being a meanie. And what do you call putting tabasco in my steak and kidney pie?"

"A harmless prank?" Teddy suggested sheepishly.

"Not harmless. What did you do, use half a bottle?" Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "And now Harry isn't speaking to either one of us."

"You shouldn't have called me a little you-know-what."

"You shouldn't have called me a Death Eater."

Teddy bowed his head. "I am sorry about that."

"Look, we'd better find a way to get along or we're going to drive Harry away from both of us."

"What?" Teddy's eyes widened. "Do you really think Harry will leave us?" His eyes began to fill with tears.

"Now, don't cry. He won't leave _you_. He's already chosen you over me once. I have no doubt that he would again, if forced."

"What are you talking about?" Teddy asked, brushing away a few tears that managed to spill. "He left me for two months to be with _you_. He chose you."

Draco hadn't thought of it in those terms, as it hadn't been a conscious decision on Harry's part. But of course, in Teddy's young mind, that was exactly what happened. At least it explained Teddy's animosity toward him.

"He didn't choose me over you. He didn't even remember you. Or me, for that matter. And he didn't have much choice at all."

Teddy appeared to be pondering Draco's words.

"The point is," Draco continued. "That neither one of us is going to keep Harry with us by fighting over him. We're simply making him upset."

"What should we do?"

"Get along. Or at least, pretend to get along. I'll stop trying to boss you around if you stop putting things in my food. And showing up, pretending to be scared at night."

"Thunder storms really do scare me," Teddy said. "I made up the nightmares. But one time I peed the bed during a lightning storm. A tree crashed in the back yard. Harry makes me feel safe."

"I know. He makes me feel safe as well."

"Are you afraid of storms?"

"No, I'm afraid of much scarier stuff. Things that can't really hurt me anymore. But I still dream about them."

Teddy swallowed. A grown up had never told him they were afraid. He thought all grown ups were brave, like Harry. While Draco was temporarily lost in his own world, Teddy watched him. His brow was furrowed slightly and he looked somewhat sad. Teddy could have no knowledge of what was going through Draco's mind at the moment, but he could see that Draco was as vulnerable as he was when it came to Harry.

"You need him to take care of you, too. Don't you?"

"What?" Draco snapped out of his day dream.

"Nothing," Teddy replied. "I'll try to be good from now on. I don't want Harry to be mad at me."

Scanning the table and its half-eaten contents, Draco sighed. "That was a waste." He took out his wand and vanished what was left. "Are you still hungry?" he asked the boy.

"Kind of."

"I'm sure Harry is too. "I'll go and get a pizza. Then we'll bring it up to Harry and apologize."

"Okay." Teddy went up to the drawing room to watch television and wait for Draco to come back.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

"Harry?" Teddy whispered as he and Draco tiptoed into the bedroom.

"I'm not asleep," Harry answered. He sat up in bed and lit his bedside lamp.

"We brought a pizza," Teddy said as he jumped on the bed.

"None of us finished our supper." Draco put the box on the bed at Harry's feet. "Are you hungry?"

"Famished," Harry smiled. "I was beginning to think you were never going to come up and check on me." He took the slice offered, folded it slightly and took a large bite.

"Were you just pretending to be angry?" Teddy asked, hands on hips.

"I was more frustrated than angry."

"Well, I think we may have come to a truce," Draco announced proudly. Teddy nodded.

"Wait, that means we're not going to fight anymore, right?"

"Yes. For Harry's sake. We're not going to fight anymore."

Not quite what Harry was hoping for. But it was a start.

"I have a small errand tomorrow," Harry said. "Would it be all right to leave Teddy with you at the shop for an hour or so?"

"I wouldn't know what to do with him," Draco replied. "I'll be busy. You know Crispin and Anora aren't up to running the shop by themselves yet."

"Perhaps Anora can teach Teddy how to help with the ingredients, the way that Mirabelle showed me."

"But Teddy can't reach most of the shelves." Draco saw the look of disappointment on Harry's face, however briefly it flashed. "I suppose, he could help her tidy up the drawers. She can tell him about the dried ingredients and what they're used for, as long as they're at it."

"Thank you," Harry smiled. He leaned forward and gave Draco a peck on the lips. He turned to Teddy and pointed a finger at him. "And you will have to be on your best behavior. The shop is a serious place. There will be customers, important ones, who won't want to be distracted by an unruly child."

"Are you sure you can't get Granger to watch him?"

"_Hermione_," Harry said with emphasis. "Is busy tomorrow. It's only for an hour," he said, clearly annoyed that Draco was trying so hard to get out of time with Teddy.

Teddy spoke up. "I'll be good. I promise." He was actually very curious about the shop. Harry had told him some of the things Draco sold, and he was interested in some of the more obscure items, particularly Erumpent horn.

"All right," Draco relented.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

The heavy sigh in the darkness signaled Draco's sleepless night. He and Harry had put Teddy to bed and retired themselves all before half-ten. Though Harry was speaking to him, Draco couldn't help feel an icy rift between them. He wondered if he would ever get along with Teddy. Perhaps when the boy was no longer a child. But he couldn't sit around and wait fifteen years for him to become a bona fide adult. In fifteen years Draco himself would be thirty-nine years old, and there would be a whole host of new generational problems between them. The thought of being middle aged, having gone through a lifetime of turmoil with Teddy was none too appealing. Would Harry always take the child's side? Would Draco always be the odd man out? The one who disrupted Harry and Teddy's family? Judging by the cold reception from the other side of the bed, yes.

A tear slid down the side of Draco's face, pooling in his right ear. He turned away from Harry, on the off chance Harry was awake and would see. It was irrational to think that. The room was too dark and he'd heard the familiar sounds of Harry's steady breathing. Another tear escaped, dripping off the bridge of his nose and onto his pillow.

Draco cried silently until he was exhausted enough to fall asleep.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day One Hundred Forty-Seven, Saturday

Sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of porridge, Draco read the morning's copy of the Daily Prophet. Nothing much of interest inside, except for the small wedding announcement of Astoria Greengrass and some bloke from Durmstrang.

"Better you than me," Draco chuckled to himself. "Poor fellow."

"Who are you talking to?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes and stretching as he padded his way to the table and sat across from Draco.

"Myself." He turned the paper upside down so Harry could see. "Astoria's getting married."

"You dated her for a while didn't you?"

"If you could call it that. It was an arrangement," Draco answered humorlessly. "She needed money and I needed a front."

"A front?"

"So my father wouldn't suspect his son was a poofter."

"Oh." Harry finally got a good look at Draco now that the sleep was sufficiently rubbed from his eyes. He appeared to have gotten no sleep. There were dark circles around his puffy eyes. And, if possible, he seemed even paler than usual.

"I've got to get to the shop." Draco stood, taking his bowl to the sink. "There's extra porridge on the stove if you want."

"Draco, wait." Harry stood and walked to him. "Not even a kiss goodbye?"

Draco leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"I'll see you when you bring Teddy by."

"All right. About ten then."

Harry was left standing in the kitchen alone. Perhaps he had been too hard on Draco the night before. The new living arrangements had been difficult for all of them. Teddy never acted up the way he did recently, before Draco came into the picture. And living in Draco's flat had been so much simpler when Harry didn't have anyone else to focus on.

He promised Draco that he would do whatever it took to make things work out. So far, all he'd done was yell and take Teddy's side. Still, it forced his boys to come to an understanding. But peaceful coexistence wasn't good enough. Harry wanted a family.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

As Harry and Teddy walked into The Dragon's Lair, the boy gaped at the myriad displays of odd objects. Several sizes of eyeballs in jars, plants of every shape, size and color, and the Erumpent horn he had been wanting to see.

"Hello, Mr. Potter." A young woman that Harry guessed to be just out of school extended her hand to him. "My name is Anora. I've heard so much about you. I'm so pleased to finally meet you."

"He's not a celebrity to be gawked at Anora," Draco called from the other side of the shop. "Here, he's just Harry."

She winced slightly at the reprimand and squatted down to Teddy's side. "And you must be Teddy," she smiled.

He nodded, then gasped as her hair suddenly changed from a medium brown to blue to match his own. "You're a metamorphmagus." He changed his own hair to pink and sprouted a pig nose.

"You're getting better at that," Harry smiled.

By then, Draco had made his way over to the small group.

"Where are you going anyway?" he asked Harry.

"Ron and I have a quick visit to pay. Official business. No big deal."

A lump seemed to form in the pit of Draco's stomach. He knew Harry's job could be dangerous. But he preferred not to know the details of missions. Otherwise, he spent an irrational amount of time worrying until Harry returned home. The fact that he was going with Ron as back up was no comfort to him.

"Really, we're just interviewing a witness," Harry assured him.

"All right." Draco looked down at Teddy. "Do you think you can stay out of trouble for a while?"

The boy nodded.

"You may look around. But don't touch anything," he added sternly.

The horn was the first thing that drew the boy's attention. On closer inspection, it didn't appear to be any more special than a rhinoceros horn. Disappointed, he continued to walk around.

"Thanks love. I shouldn't be more than an hour." Harry glanced at Anora, then decided it was best not to kiss Draco goodbye. He most likely shouldn't have called him love, either.

As Harry walked out, a customer walked in requiring Draco's personal attention. Anora found Teddy among the various kinds of bones the shop kept on supply.

"Are any of them human?" he asked.

"Nah, that's illegal," she told him. "But we have a few dragon bones."

"Ooh, could I see them?"

"Sorry, they're up there." She pointed to the high shelf where the dragon's blood was kept. "Even I can't get them. Charms."

"Would you like to help me sort the herbs? I was very good at Herbology. Top of my class," she said proudly.

Herbs seemed pretty boring to Teddy, but he couldn't think of a polite way to turn her down.

Anora explained the herbs to Teddy as she took them from their shipping boxes and placed them in various containers for display. One drawer held twenty-five different dried herbs that not only wizards, but muggles used. Teddy found it mildly interesting, however, his eye kept wandering. He spotted Draco going behind a curtain to another room several times and wondered what he was doing.

Just as she was about to lose Teddy's attention, Anora brought out the more entertaining plants. Plants she dared not take out of the containments with the boy around.

"This one is Devil's Snare. You'll learn about it when you go to Hogwarts. It can choke a person to death," she said dramatically.

"And this one can help you breath under water. It's Gillyweed."

"What's this one?" Teddy pointed to a plant in a small terrarium that was slowly reaching a tendril out toward him.

"Oh, be glad that one's behind glass. Venomous Tentacula. Those spines are poisonous."

"What do you do with all this stuff?"

"We sell it to people. Or Mr. Malfoy uses them in his potions. This shop has been the top provider of potions to St. Mungo's for three years now." Anora slid the remaining boxes under the display cabinets and stood. "I hope to be a Potions Master as good as Mr. Malfoy someday. But for now, I'm mainly a stock girl and cashier."

"Anora, it's after eleven. Would you like to come to lunch with me?" A man who looked to be a few years older than Anora approached the pair. "Oh. Who's this?"

"This is Mr. Malfoy's . . .um . . ."

"Teddy. I'm Harry's Godson. I'm Draco's nothing," Teddy answered, leaving out the fact that technically they were cousins.

The man smiled awkwardly. "I'm Crispin. I'm Mr. Malfoy's apprentice. And I'm late for lunch. Are you joining me Anora?"

"Yeah, all right." She turned to Teddy. "Would you like me to bring something back for you or is Mr. Malfoy feeding you?"

Teddy shrugged.

"Wasn't Harry supposed to come and get you?" Anora looked around, but didn't see Draco. "I'll bring you back a sandwich."

Crispin and Anora left the shop and turned the 'open' sign around to read 'out to lunch'. After Mirabelle and Harry stopped working at the shop, Draco decided to close the shop for lunch hour. His new employees seemed to enjoy getting out for at least a little while every day.

Teddy walked the aisles, bored and alone. Eventually, he made his way to the curtain Draco had disappeared behind. He drew it back slightly and found Draco sitting on a stool deep in concentration over a cauldron.

Without looking at the boy, Draco said, "Either come in or go away. Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not good manners to linger in the doorway?"

He chuckled, reminding himself of Professor Snape.

Slowly, Teddy walked up beside him. Draco dropped the fluxweed he was holding into the cauldron.

Draco looked at Teddy. "Can you read?"

"Of course I can read," Teddy answered indignantly. "Some."

"Hand me the jar of flobberworm mucus."

Teddy scanned the shelf for the jar. He wanted to prove to Draco that he wasn't stupid. That he could find a simple ingredient jar. But there were so many, and he didn't read all that well. He was about to give up when he spotted it.

"What's it do?" he asked as he handed the jar to Draco.

"The flobberworm mucus? It thickens the potion."

"What does the potion do?"

"It's burn paste for St. Mungo's," Draco told him as he tipped the jar on its side and let some of the slimy mucus slide into the cauldron.

"Harry usually just waves his wand to heal any burns I've gotten."

"Well, that's fine for small burns. This is for people who are badly burned." He paused. "How did you get burns?"

"Trying to cook," Teddy answered. He added in a much quieter voice, "And setting off fireworks with the kids down the street."

Draco raised an eyebrow. The child was more of a handful than Harry had let on apparently.

Teddy walked over to another cauldron. "What's this one?"

Draco grinned. "This one is called Felix Felicis."

"What's it for?"

"It's nicknamed liquid luck. Just a little bit of this and you feel like you can accomplish anything. Usually do, too. It's even banned at sporting events."

Teddy leaned over the small cauldron. "You must sell a lot of this."

"No. It's very expensive. We actually only make this potion once a month or so, when we get requests. And only in small amounts."

"Oh." Teddy quietly watched as Draco added a few more ingredients.

After several minutes of simply observing the potion, Draco sat back and relaxed a bit. "I think that's got it." He turned to Teddy. "Are you interested in potions?"

The boy shrugged. "I don't know. Harry doesn't really make too many potions."

"You're allowed to be interested in things Harry isn't," Draco snickered.

"I know." Teddy frowned. He wanted to be just like Harry. He even thought he would be an Auror when he grew up. After all, his mother was.

"Would you like to help me make another potion?" Draco offered.

"Like what?"

"Something fun. Hiccuping Solution? Or Babbling Beverage?"

Teddy shrugged again. "How about something to make us like each other better?"

"Amortentia?" Draco laughed.

"What is that?"

"A love potion. Don't worry, I was only kidding. Why don't we make some Pepperup Potion? I sell a lot of that in the winter."

Teddy nodded. "Harry gives me that when I get a cold."

Draco got up and took a fresh cauldron from a shelf and placed it over a fire ring.

"I need some ginger, peppermint, and scurvy grass."

For a moment, Teddy just stood there.

"Well?"

The boy blinked and went to the shelves to find the ingredients, while Draco smirked to himself. The Potions Master retrieved the rest of the ingredients and set them next to the cauldron. He pulled over another stool for Teddy and waited for him to bring the three items he requested.

"What do we do first?" the boy asked.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

"That was ridiculous," Ron said as he and Harry walked down the walkway from their witness' house.

"Did we get anything useful?"

"She was just a lonely old lady that wanted company, if you ask me," Ron said. "She didn't really tell us anything new. Except she said the man was a redhead, not brunet."

Harry chuckled. "I think she was just trying to flirt with you."

"Blimey, Harry, she was older than my mum." Ron shivered at the thought. "Want to go get some lunch?"

"What? Is it lunch time already?"

Ron glanced at his watch. "It's almost one."

"Fuck, I've got to go. Draco's going to kill me."

Without waiting for a response, Harry disapparated.

When he arrived in the front of The Dragon's Lair, Harry had his apology all prepared. For both Draco and Teddy. He walked through the door, looking about for the boy. Harry was actually surprised that he wasn't standing by the door, arms crossed in front of him, tapping his foot. He spotted Crispin with a customer and Anora up on a ladder replenishing supplies. No sign of his boys, as he had come to think of them.

He made his way to the ladder, as Anora caught site of Harry.

"Nice of you of you to join us," she joked about his lateness.

"Is he ready to throttle me?"

"He's in the back," she smiled.

Harry drew in a deep breath and walked to the curtain, peeking through it when he heard laughter.

"And his potion blew up?" Teddy asked.

Draco laughed. "Right in the Professor's face."

Teddy took a bite of his sandwich that Anora brought back for him. He had given half of it to Draco.

"Well, Harry wasn't great at potions, but you should have seen him play Quidditch. He was brilliant."

"Harry played Quidditch?"

"He was the Gryffindor seeker. Third year, he chased down the snitch and snatched it practically out of the hands of the Slytherin seeker to win not only the game, but the Cup. He had to let go of his broom with both hands to do it."

"Wow. I bet that other seeker was mad."

"I was furious."

Teddy raised his eyebrows. "You? You played Quidditch? I thought you didn't play sport."

Draco nodded.

"And he was great," Harry said as he pulled the curtain all the way aside and walked into the potion room. "What's going on in here?"

"Draco and I made Pepperup Potion. Well, he made it and I helped a little," Teddy said.

Harry gave his lover a grateful look. "I'm so sorry I'm late. The witness . . . never mind. I should have kept an eye on the time myself."

"It's all right," Draco told him. "The place is still standing, despite what you may have been expecting to find," he joked.

"You ready to go, Teddy bear? I'm sure Draco has work to do."

"Aw, man. He was going to let me help with another potion after lunch," the boy grumbled.

"We have things to do at home, though," Harry said, fearing Teddy had worn out his welcome.

"Perhaps another time, then," Draco suggested.

"You mean I can come back to the shop?" Teddy looked up at Harry. "Please?"

"If it's okay with Draco. Sure," Harry smiled. "But for now, let's get out of his way. What do you want to pick up for supper tonight? We'll stop in Diagon Alley and get some pastries too."

Teddy hopped off his stool and walked to Harry. He took hold of his hand as they began to walk out of the back room.

"Can we get the lemon ones again? And maybe chocolate?"

"Anything you want."

Before they stepped through the curtain, Teddy turned around. "Thanks. I had fun."

Draco merely nodded and turned his attention back to the work counter to begin another potion for St. Mungo's. It occurred to him that he and Teddy had made a potion to make them like each other better after all.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

* * *

**A couple of people mentioned Harry being a pushover. But I think he's just choosing his battles with Teddy. And other than spiking Draco's food with hot sauce, I don't think Teddy is really _that_ much of a brat. He's a little kid and their worlds revolve around themselves.**

**Just thought I'd plug another story. It's on Amazon for Kindle and it's called Quintet by S.T. March. It isn't mine, but it's a story set back in time, in an Asian country, of five boys (sort of like an old fashioned boy band) It's fluffy and sweet yaoi. I liked it a lot.**


	14. and ignite your bones ch 14

***So, I tried to log in yesterday and my computer kept saying that it couldn't find the server for Fanfiction. I was nearly in a panic thinking they shut the site down, or were clearing out the undesirable stories. If that does happen before next Friday (the last posting day for this story) then I will post on DeviantArt. I am Reverie 007 on there. Thank you SO MUCH for your support! Many of you have been reading my stuff from New Year's First Kiss. I really appreciate all of you!**

**Princessmelodina- people may know right from wrong, but that doesn't stop them from doing wrong lol Actually, I borrowed the stunt from two adults (barely) who did it to a kid(their brother)**

**QuirkyKitty93- it's funny that you thought Draco and Teddy were being too sweet. most people seem to think they're both brats lol**

**rileygar25- as long as the chapter made you feel something, that's all I could hope for. nothing worse than not really caring what happens to people in a story. And yes, there is more Harry and Draco goodness in the future :)**

**Freddie- true, Draco is/was a Death Eater, and yes, at the time he seemed proud of it. But since then (in this story anyway) he's been trying to distance himself from that part of his past. Imagine the darkest part of your past being thrown back in your face-especially if that past has hurt the person you're currently in love with.**

**luvsallthingsslash- you're welcome. and you have my curiosity piqued. I actually borrowed the tabasco incident from reality.**

**DarkeFire98- thanks for such an in depth review! I like happy endings, so no matter how much angst I throw at them, in the end there will be Drarry**

**Earthstar- oops, you got me! I originally was going to go more in depth with the ambush/memory taking backstory. But when I realized how few lines there are in the song (and therefor, chapters) I wanted to concentrate on the Drarry. Anyway, I chalked Harry's panic up to latent memories of the war, being held in Malfoy Manor etc. Sorry for leaving you hanging. btw, how were you able to review the same chapter twice?**

**Thanks go out to Serena-Fair, BloodyRose90, Aqualynn Black, cassy1994, Expecto Kiwiland, LalalalSpacingInPandaLand, MakeupDiva88, Deby Magid, FantasyFiend09, WitchRavenFox, CalireBouldwin, Clary girl two, and Kisa167. You all seem pleased with the progress between Draco and Teddy.**

* * *

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

**Day Three Hundred Fifteen, Saturday**

Hope: The feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.

As Harry tied his bow tie, that was what he felt. Hope. Hope for the future. He'd been promoted within the ranks of the Aurors. Gawain Robards seemed to like him well enough not to let his fame get in the way of his job. Shacklebolt warned Harry that he'd have to work just as hard, if not harder than the other Aurors to prove himself. Robards didn't want to be accused of playing favorites, and sometimes purposely gave Harry the less desirable assignments.

But, of course, Harry had proven himself worthy and had been moved to the intelligence office. Much to Hermione's teasing about the irony, Ron had been moved as well.

Draco's Paris shop was doing well, but often required him to spend time away from London. Though Mirabelle was capable of handling most of the potions, Draco had not yet found a suitable apprentice for her. Though, the new assistant was an excellent salesman.

On the one hand, Harry missed Draco terribly when he was gone, but on the other, he was able to spend more quality time alone with Teddy. Something the boy enjoyed very much. He and Draco got on much better than they had in the first few weeks of the new living arrangements. Especially since the day Harry left the boy in Draco's shop for almost three hours.

The pair had come to an understanding. However, they still nitpicked at one another. And Teddy knew precisely which buttons to push in order to get the biggest rise out of Draco. Not that Draco didn't have a few of his own tricks. Still, Harry thought it was an improvement.

"Are you still trying to tie that?" Draco asked as he entered the room behind Harry.

Harry turned around, a fake pout on his lips. "You're so much better at it than me."

Draco gasped at the sight of Harry in his tuxedo.

"Do we have to go?" he smirked.

"We promised," Harry reminded him.

"Mmm. I know, but you look so . . . enticing."

"You look pretty sharp yourself," Harry grinned. "But can you just tie this for me?"

Draco's shoulders slumped and he swiftly tied the bow tie.

Suddenly, Teddy jumped into the room blowing a horn, startling the pair.

"Happy New Year!" he shouted.

"Not yet," Draco said, putting his finger in his ears. "Save that for the party."

"Teddy you look quite handsome," Harry told him.

"Do I have to wear this the whole time?" He tugged at the collar and tie around his neck.

"Just until we get some pictures, then you can loosen up." Harry told him. He held out his bent elbows to his boys. "Shall we?"

The three apparated to the Ministry of Magic, where there was a large celebration planned. The lobby had been decorated with candles and balloons for a New Year's Eve party. Left over Christmas decorations had been left up to add to the festive mood.

Hermione and Ron immediately found them and asked them to join their table.

"Have you been here long?" Harry questioned. He glanced around. "I can't believe how many people are here."

"The Ministry opened it up to the wizarding public, rather than only employees of the Ministry," Hermione explained.

"That explains why I see Ginny over there," Harry said nervously. He turned back to his friends. "I haven't seen her since . . ." He gave a sideways glance toward Draco.

"Maybe you should go talk to her," Hermione suggested.

"She probably doesn't want to speak to me."

"Nonsense. She has a new boyfriend and her team is doing exceptionally well this year. She's doing well."

"Another Quidditch player? Her boyfriend?" Harry watched Ginny across the room until she noticed him and gave a small wave.

"Go find out," Hermione urged.

Ginny excused herself from the group she was talking to and met Harry somewhere in the middle of the room. He kissed her cheek.

"You look lovely," he smiled.

"You too," she laughed and looked down at her feet awkwardly.

"I hear you have a new boyfriend," he said, making small talk.

"Yes," she nodded. "I hear you do too."

His smile dropped. "Ginny . . ."

"It's all right, Harry." She placed her hand on his arm. "I'm well past it. Really."

"I'm not."

"What do you mean?"

"Ginny, I need to apologize."

"You don't have to apologize for being gay," she said. "It's not your fault I wasn't right for you."

"No, but it was my fault that I led you on so long. I didn't love you the way you deserved to be loved, and I kept you from finding true happiness for so long."

"I thought I could love enough for the both of us. I knew deep down that you cared for me, but that you weren't really in love with me. I was just as much to blame."

Harry shook his head. "No, I did things . . ."

"Harry, I knew you were cheating on me."

He looked at her wide-eyed. "You knew? Why didn't you confront me or hex me or something?"

"I don't know. I suppose I was afraid of losing you altogether. I was content having part of you rather than none."

"Oh, Ginny, I will always care for you. I will always be your friend. If you'll still have me. I am so sorry for the way I've hurt you."

She hugged him close. "I've missed you."

"I've been sort of avoiding everyone at the Burrow."

"You don't need to, you know. Everyone knows all about you and Malfoy."

"Yes, but do they understand?"

Ginny smiled softly. "Ironically, I think you were the only who paid any attention to him anymore. He sort of faded into the crowd for the rest of us." She laughed. "Even Ron thought you went a little overboard keeping tabs on him."

Harry blushed. "Yeah. It seems so obvious now, doesn't it?"

"I'm glad you're happy. You should get back to him. He hasn't taken his eyes off you since you came over here. And he seems like the jealous type," she snickered. "Come visit soon. We need to catch up."

She began to walk away.

"Gin? Are you happy?" Harry asked.

A slow smile grew on her face. "Happier now." She left to join her boyfriend, who was a little more than curious about her conversation with Harry.

A smile on his own face, Harry sat down next to Draco, who was nursing a butter beer.

"Where's Teddy?"

"He discovered a chocolate fountain."

"Ah," Harry nodded when he saw Teddy and several other children gorging themselves on strawberries dipped in chocolate.

"Everything all right with Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. We cleared the air a bit. I think it's going to be fine."

"Good," Ron added. "Does that mean you'll start coming to family suppers again? Mum keeps asking about you."

Harry looked at Draco.

"I'm sure she doesn't mean for you to come alone," Hermione said.

Teddy came back to the table, placing a large plate of food in front of himself.

"Ugh," Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Are you really going to eat all of that?"

"What?" he asked innocently. "I'm hungry. I don't know what this stuff is, but it's really good. Want some?" He held out a small cracker topped with liver pâté to her.

She held her nose in disgust. "Ugh."

The band started playing a slow song.

"Come on, let's dance." Ron held out his hand to his wife. Hermione gratefully took it and the pair joined other couples on the dance floor.

"I don't suppose you'd like to dance," Harry said to Draco.

"Are you asking me to dance, or telling me I don't want to?" Draco smirked.

"I think I'm hedging my bets," Harry laughed.

Draco sighed dramatically and smiled as he stood up. "Would you like to dance?" He rolled his eyes.

"No."

"What?"

"Just kidding," Harry chuckled. "I'd love to."

They made their way into the crowd. A few stared at them. A few sneered at them. But most paid no more attention to them than any other couple. Harry wound his arms around Draco's waist while Draco did the same. They rested their cheeks together and swayed along to the music.

Harry and Draco stayed out on the dance floor for several more songs, occasionally joined by Teddy, who bounced up and down to the quick beat of Celestina Warbeck and the Banshees.

When they finally sat down, exhausted, it was nearly midnight. The five of them were joined by another Auror and her husband with whom they were friendly. A waiter came by with a tray filled with champagne flutes and began passing them out.

Teddy reached for one of the glasses.

"No, Teddy bear, that's not for you," Harry said as he pushed the flute away and handed the boy a lemonade.

"Aw, but it's New Year's Eve," Teddy complained. "Everyone else is having some."

"Oh, let him try it, Harry," Draco urged.

Teddy's eyebrows shot up at Draco siding with him.

Trying to hide his smirk, Draco slid the champagne closer.

"Draco," Harry frowned, a warning in his voice. Draco winked at him.

Teddy eagerly picked up the flute and took a large swallow, some of which he spit back out into the glass.

The adults at the table all burst out laughing.

"Blahhh. That's horrible," Teddy groused. "Why did you let me drink that, Draco?" He shoved his cousin's shoulder.

Still laughing, Draco said, "I bet you won't raid Harry's stash of firewhiskey anytime soon."

Teddy sat pouting while everyone else prepared for the countdown to two thousand and six.

"Come on, Teddy. Let's get ready for the fireworks." Harry nudged the boy.

As floating numbers counted down from ten, the guests all stood and shouted them out. At the stroke of midnight, the magical fireworks provided by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, burst into a colorful display. Draco leaned in to kiss Harry, but was beaten by Teddy, who hugged onto Harry tightly. Fortunately there was plenty of room above Teddy's head for Harry to reach over to kiss Draco. They kept it short for etiquette's sake.

"Happy New Year, love," Harry whispered, then looked down. "Happy New Year shortstuff."

More hugs, kisses and handshakes went around, as well as wishes for the new year. Most lifted their glasses and toasted to luck in the upcoming year. Everyone at Harry's table clinked their glasses and drank the champagne, except for Teddy. And Hermione.

"Mione, it's bad luck not to drink to the new year," Harry said.

"Who says?" she asked.

"Me. I just made it up. This champagne is quite good. The Ministry spared no expense."

"I'm not really a fan of champagne actually."

"Oh. I can get you something from the bar if you'd like," Harry offered.

Hermione glanced at Ron. "Um, that's all right."

"Hermione's pregnant," Ron blurted out.

"Ron, I thought we were going to wait," Hermione reprimanded.

"They were going to figure it out, Mione. You're not drinking, you barely ate, and you look as though you're going to toss your cookies at any moment."

"I had my suspicions," Harry admitted. "You haven't seemed to be feeling well that last few times we've gotten together."

Hermione sighed. "I guess I wasn't very good at hiding it."

"When are you due?" Harry asked.

"June. On or about the fifteenth."

"Congratulations," Draco offered, holding his glass up. "That's wonderful news."

The rest of the table joined him.

Hermione beamed. "I have to admit, it's a relief now that you all know."

"Wait 'til we tell Mum. Another grandchild to dote on. She'll be in all her glory."

Draco finished the last of his champagne and turned to find Harry staring at him strangely.

"What?"

"Nothing," Harry replied, and smiled.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

**Day Three Hundred Sixteen, Sunday**

In the wee hours of the morning, Harry, Draco and a sleeping Teddy arrived back at Grimmauld Place. Harry placed the boy gently into bed and kissed his forehead.

As Harry slipped into bed, he leaned over Draco.

"How tired are you?" he whispered.

He heard Draco chuckle in the darkness. "Is there ever a time you're _not_ randy?"

"For you? No."

As their eyes adjusted to the darkness and the dim light from the window, Draco could make out the expression on Harry's face.

"What's gotten into you? Are you pissed?"

"No. I'm completely clear-headed. I just . . . I don't know. I love you so much, it aches sometimes." Harry buried his face in Draco's chest. "That sounds stupid doesn't it?"

"No. Not at all. But what's brought all this on tonight?"

Lifting his head, Harry told him, "You were wonderful tonight. With everything. I mean, I was not thrilled about the whole champagne thing with Teddy. But maybe you were right to let him see that he wasn't really missing anything."

"Were you upset by that? It was a tactic my father often used on me. Let me do the things I shouldn't, usually with poor results. Turned me right off."

"It seemed to work with Teddy, too," Harry laughed. "But the entire night you handled yourself so well. Even when some of the guests stared at us. I saw a few people corner you," Harry admitted. "What did they say?"

"Nothing of consequence," Draco replied. "One of them was a reporter for the Prophet. Just looking for a story." He smoothed out the hair from Harry's face. "I ache for you too, you know. No one has ever lit a fire in me the way you have."

"I want to make love to you," Harry whispered. He wasn't quite sure what Draco's reaction to the request would be. Harry always gladly bottomed. This far into their relationship, it was assumed, even.

Draco gazed up at Harry hovering over him. It was a request Harry had never made before. And it was the very last wall Draco had in his defense. To let Harry take him would be the final leap of trust. A leap he had never made with anyone else.

"All right," he answered softly. "I'm yours."

Harry wasted no time practically consuming Draco with his fiery passion. He had to force himself to slow down, though, when it came to the physical act. Draco trembled slightly beneath him, more with anticipation than fear. And when Harry finally entered him, he cried out from the initial burn and the intensity of emotions.

Gently as he could manage, Harry sought to bring Draco to his finish. He watched as his body relaxed, and eventually moved in rhythm with his own. When Draco came, before Harry, he sighed in complete contentment.

For a while, Harry stayed still, just watching his lover's face. He honestly would not have felt cheated if he had not reached his own climax.

Draco opened his eyes. "Harry?"

"You're beautiful."

"You didn't cum, did you?" Draco questioned.

"Not yet," Harry smiled. "It was almost enough just to watch you."

"Bollocks," Draco smirked, and began to move his hips against Harry's.

Out of his control, Harry's body responded. He pushed forward and pulled back until he'd spent himself inside his lover for the first time.

Afterward, they lay together entwined.

"Is that what it's like for you every time?"

Harry looked to Draco. "What do you mean?"

"Do I make you feel so . . . "

"So . . . what?"

"Like the only other person in the world. Do I make you feel like you're the only person I've ever loved? Ever _could_ love?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Is that how I made you feel?"

"That's how you always make me feel."

"Because you are." Harry knew then, that they would be able to overcome any obstacles that came their way, including Teddy. And he dared to hope that one day, the three of them would become a true family.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

* * *

**If you've been paying attention, you'll be able to figure out the title of the next chapter :) It's been sort of a pain keeping track of the days. Next time, I'll stick to the date. Just to put it in perspective, this chapter starts on December 31, 2005. The story began on Sunday, February 20.**


	15. and I will try to fix you

***Here we are, at the end of this story :( Next time I think I should pick a song with more lines. jk I want to thank you all SO MUCH for your support! You all just make me so happy! Especially those of you who have been reading my stories from when I first started here.**

**rileygar25- even though I PM'd you, I thought I'd answer here in case someone else felt the same way. I purposely made the scene in which Harry tops Draco to be less graphic. Draco is making a huge emotional connection with Harry, and realizing that all he tries to convey to Harry during lovemaking is getting through.**

**Serena-Fair- according to my research, Rose is born sometime in 2005, so it's her that Hermione is expecting. I try to be epilogue compliant where I can**

**Princessmelodina- I don't know if I'd call this last chapter an epilogue. It takes place roughly eight months after chapter 14. If inspiration strikes me, I my add an epilogue down the road-one that shows them years into the future**

**Kisa167- I, too, prefer SubHarry. But I like when Draco finally gives up control and shows his vulnerability once in a while.**

**Thanks to QuirkyKitty93, WitchRavenFox, LinkinPark32, Carlie, BloodyRose90, da-blk-saiyangirl, cassy1994, hotflower901, ClaireBouldwin, and FantasyFiend09 for reading and reviewing!**

**I hope this lives up to your expectations!**

* * *

Day Five Hundred Twenty-Seven, Monday

Harry walked in the door to 12 Grimmauld Place and tossed his wand on the small entrance table. It had been quite a while since he came home in such a foul mood. After an exhausting couple of weeks, one of the Death Eaters he had worked hard to capture and build a case against, finally stood trial. Because of a bargain struck with the Ministry, most of the charges were dropped and the man would probably spend less than a year behind bars.

It was only Monday, but more than any Monday he could remember, Harry needed a drink. Or four. He walked into the drawing room to retrieve a bottle of firewhiskey to start the pity party.

The sight that greeted him instantly lifted his mood.

Draco was asleep on the sofa, his head back, mouth open and snoring, in the most dignified manner, of course. On his chest was an open book turned over. And on his lap, leaning against his shoulder was a sleeping eight year old boy.

Harry stood watching Teddy slowly rise and fall with Draco's chest. He was due to pick up the boy on Friday from Andromeda, but Draco must have picked him up for some reason. Quickly and quietly, Harry went to get his camera.

He smiled as he took several shots.

_This one is definitely going on the mantle_, he thought.

Deciding that he didn't feel like drinking any more, Harry grabbed his wand and disapparated to Diagon Alley to pick up supper from one of the cafes. Teddy's favorite was roast pork and glazed carrots from Pete's place. He also stopped at a bakery to get chocolate chip cookies- Harry's favorites. He was just about to leave when he realized that he didn't get anything special for Draco. Stopping in Honeydukes, he bought licorice wands, which were Draco's sweet of choice. Teddy, of course would sample it all.

When Harry returned, Teddy and Draco were awake and, as Harry saw it, trying very hard_ not_ to look as though they'd been asleep.

"Oh, Harry, are you just getting home?" Draco asked, stifling a yawn.

"I brought supper," Harry answered, ignoring Draco's question. "Not that I'm complaining, but why is Teddy here tonight? I thought I was supposed to pick him up Friday. Did Andromeda cut their holiday short?"

He walked to the boy and leaned down to give him a hug and a kiss on the top of his head.

"This is a nice surprise."

Teddy giggled. "You're not supposed to know."

"I'm not supposed to know what?" Harry asked.

"About the surprise," Teddy replied.

Harry looked to Draco. "What surprise?" he asked warily.

"Nice going short stuff," Draco nudged Teddy.

"Draco? What's going on?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, Harry, you are the only person I know who forgets his own birthday."

He had completely forgotten. Harry supposed too many years of horrible birthdays and worse birthday presents led him to place little to no importance on the day.

Harry laughed. "I did forget. I've been busy. But, now that I remember, what are you two up to?"

"I'll be right back." Teddy jumped off Draco's lap and ran up the stairs to his bedroom.

"He made you a present," Draco said. He stood and straightened out his sleep wrinkled clothing as best he could. He walked to Harry and gave him a gentle kiss. "You'll get yours from me later." He winked. He ran a finger from Harry's throat down into his open collar.

Just then, Teddy came bounding back down with a package sloppily wrapped in old newspaper.

"Happy birthday Harry," the boy grinned.

"Should I open it now? Or should we eat first?"

"Now," Teddy jumped up and down.

Harry sat in his comfy chair and began carefully unwrapping the gift.

"No, no. Rip it open!" Teddy urged him.

Complying, Harry soon uncovered a ceramic mug painted in bright colors with childlike drawings of a snake on one side and a lion on the other. In between them was a boy with blue hair, looking remarkably like Teddy himself.

"Did you make this?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Teddy sat up straighter, quite proud of himself. "Draco took me to a muggle place where you can paint all kinds of stuff. It was really fun."

"You didn't do this with magic?"

"Nope. I painted it all by myself."

"I love it," Harry said. "Thank you. This is about the best birthday gift I've ever gotten." He hugged the boy closely. "I love you, Teddy bear," Harry smiled.

The child looked up at him. His resemblance to Remus made Harry a bit sad at times. But he was so grateful to have the boy in his life, if he couldn't have Tonks and Remus themselves.

The three of them went down to the kitchen to eat the pork and carrots, and some bread Molly had given them a few days prior.

"You didn't have to bring home supper," Draco said, biting into a carrot. "Teddy and I planned to go to Pierre's and pick up your favorite stew."

"We have a cake, too. Do you really like your gift, Harry?" Teddy asked as he chewed.

"You shouldn't talk with your mouth full," Draco admonished in a fatherly tone.

"I love it, Teddy. Thank you again. I think I'll take it to work so everyone can see it."

Teddy sat up a little straighter and gave Draco a scowl. "Ha," he said. "I told you it's better than your present."

"How can you say that? He hasn't gotten my present yet," Draco argued. He was always easily sucked in by Teddy's teasing.

"He can't even take yours with him. When are you going to give it to him?"

Harry blushed, thinking about what Draco said earlier about his gift. He didn't think Teddy could possibly know what Draco had implied earlier. Could he?

"Right after supper," Draco answered.

"I'll take my shower while you do it."

"Draco!" Harry cried. "What did you tell him?"

"For Merlin's sake Harry. What do you think we're talking about?"

"I, uh, not what I thought, I guess."

"No. I should think not," Draco rolled his eyes.

"I still think mine is better," Teddy said, obliviously.

They finished their supper and Teddy went upstairs to shower. Harry and Draco poured themselves two glasses of wine and retired to the drawing room.

Draco took Harry's wine and placed it on the buffet. Unexpectedly, he took Harry in his arms and began to suck on his bottom lip. He backed him against the wall and pressed his hips into Harry's.

"Now I can finally give you my gift," Draco purred.

"Here? You can't be serious?"

"It has to be in here," the blond laughed. He pulled away from Harry, who frowned, confused.

With a sweeping arm gesture, Draco announced, "The tapestry is finally finished."

Still frowning, Harry looked at Draco. "The tapestry has been finished for months."

True, they had commissioned a witch specializing in the restoration of antiques, such as the tapestry, to replace the names that had been burned out. Draco had consulted his mother on the missing names and dates. They also had the witch add names, such as Tonks and her father, as well as Remus Lupin and Teddy. The tapestry had been cleaned and restored so well, Harry actually became fond of it.

"Take another look," Draco told him.

Harry shook his head. It looked the same as it had the last time he looked at it. He was about to give up and ask Draco what was different when he finally noticed.

Harry's own name was embroidered on the tapestry, next to Draco's and joined by a double line. Another line connected their names to Teddy's, which was, of course, also connected to Tonks and Remus' names.

"You had my name put on there?" Harry ran his fingers over the newly added embroidery. "But Drake, those lines are only for people who are married."

"I know." Draco slowly sunk down on one knee and gazed up at Harry. "Will you marry me?"

Harry stood speechless.

"The Church of England won't let us get married, but the Ministry will. Or we can have a civil muggle ceremony," Draco continued. "And as one of Teddy's last remaining blood relatives, I can easily adopt him. I mean, _we_ can adopt him."

Tears began to well up in Harry's eyes. He knew Draco was committed to him, but he never seemed the marrying type. And though he had caught Draco in the role of doting father often enough, Draco always downplayed his actions.

"I'm sorry I don't have a ring," Draco continued. "I thought we should pick them out together." He regarded Harry with a tentative smile on his face.

Looking at the tapestry again, Harry said, "I don't know what to say."

"The answer I'm looking for is yes," Draco prodded. "Unless you've gotten another offer you're considering." He laughed.

"No," Harry replied. "I mean, yes. I mean no, I'm not considering another offer. And yes, I'll marry you."

Draco stood and wrapped his arms around Harry. They held onto each other, as if everything they felt for one another could be conveyed in that one embrace.

Teddy bounded down the stairs and rushed into the drawing room.

"Ugh," he said when he saw Harry and Draco kiss.

"Hm, I think your Uncle Ron is rubbing off on you," Harry said.

"He doesn't like that mushy stuff either," Teddy informed him. "So? What did he say? What did he say?" He tugged at Draco's shirt.

"He said 'yes', of course."

"You talked to Teddy about it before asking me?" Harry questioned.

"Well, it's customary to ask the father for permission, but since that wasn't possible, I went to the next best source of authority," Draco joked. Teddy puffed out his chest with pride. "It affects him as much as us. I had to be sure that Teddy would be happy with me as his father as well."

Teddy's chest deflated. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked, confused. "I love you. I'm the luckiest kid. I get to have _two_ dads." Teddy skipped away toward the kitchen, calling out, "Can I have a cookie Harry? I know you bought some."

Draco stood with his breath caught in his throat, trying to blink away tears.

"All this time I thought he merely tolerated me because I was with you."

"I knew you'd win him over," Harry said. "How could he not love you. You're a wonderful father to him."

"I never thought I'd be a father to anyone," Draco confessed. "I think I've gotten the better gift on _your_ birthday. Thank you for not giving up on me. When I think about what I almost lost . . ."

"Sh." Harry put his index finger up to Draco's lips. "Everything has worked out just the way it was meant to."

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Day Six Hundred Eight, Friday

The guests at the small gathering watched as Draco and Harry danced their first dance as a married couple. As far as the muggle world was concerned, they were nothing of the sort. But, they spent less and less time in the muggle world, except for the occasional trip to Starbucks, as the wizarding world had slowly come to accept that people change. Even Death Eaters. And heroes. The Ministry had allowed the couple to marry and adopt Teddy as their own, together.

It was a beautifully clear October night. Hermione was misty eyed as her heart was filled with joy for her oldest and dearest friend, and her newest dear friend. It was amazing to her that she now thought of Draco Malfoy as a dear friend.

"He looks happy," Hermione remarked as she clutched baby Rose close to her. "I've never seen him smile so much."

"Yeah, he does," Ron agreed. "Who'd have thought? I guess I was wrong. I was sure he was going to pull something on Harry. On all of us."

She turned to him. "Who are you talking about? I'm talking about Harry."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Me too," Ron backpedaled.

A smile grew on Hermione's face. "Don't tell me you've developed a soft spot for Draco."

"No. Of course not." Ron gave Hermione a sideways glance. "Fine. I'll admit that he's been good for Harry and Teddy. But I wouldn't go so far as to say I've gone soft."

Ron was only willing to give so much. Though he and Draco could actually spend time in the same room together, and occasionally collaborated on cases Ron was working on, Ron wouldn't exactly call them friends. Not yet. But he no longer harbored the ill feelings he felt for years. Draco's sarcasm still put Ron off, even though Harry kept assuring him that Draco meant no harm. It didn't help that Hermione found his wit incomparable, especially when it was directed at her husband.

"All right," Hermione grinned. "I won't call you soft." She wiggled her eyebrows. Then she dropped the smile and took Ron's hand.

"I know it's been difficult for you. And you've handled yourself beautifully."

"No more than you. Or Harry," Ron began to protest.

"Yes. And you know it. His family and yours have a much longer history than either of us. You've had to get over generations of hate." She leaned forward and kissed him gently. "I love you."

"Am I interrupting?"

Hermione and Ron looked up to see Mirabelle standing above them. Hermione stood and gave her a quick hug around the sleeping four month old in her arms.

"So good to see you," she squealed.

"You too," Mirabelle said. "I've been so busy with the new shop."

Feeling at a disadvantage, Ron stood. He gave Mirabelle a hug as well.

"Malfoy working you too hard?" he smirked.

Mirabelle sighed dramatically. "Well, _I_ don't have an amazing apprentice like he did. Or a cute boyfriend, to help me run the shop."

While Ron rolled his eyes, Hermione giggled.

"I take it business in Paris is brisk?" Hermione asked.

"It's very different than here," Mirabelle answered. "I've been trying to convince Draco to move his shop to Diagon Alley. I think he'd do even better now that he's become more readily accepted. Respectable wizards are still wary about traveling in Knockturn Alley."

"I'm plenty busy where I am," Draco's voice sounded behind them. "Mirabelle. Glad you could tear yourself away from Paris." He kissed her cheek.

"I was lucky the boss let me knock off work early," she joked. "The ceremony was beautiful. You look quite handsome."

He nodded his thanks, then turned to Hermione. "Are you certain you're okay watching Teddy this week?" He glanced at the baby.

"No. I've changed my mind. I think you'll have to take him on your honeymoon," she quipped back.

At first startled by her words, Draco began to laugh when he saw her grin. "I think you've been around me too long, Granger."

Even after over a year, and knowing she was now firmly a Weasley, Granger had become something of a pet name for her. It irked Ron, but he was determined not to show it.

"Yeah, maybe she has, _Potter_," Ron said. He paused a moment to let his jab sink in. "Oh, I just assumed you would take _his_ name. Bridal tradition and all . . ."

For a strained minute, Hermione and Mirabelle gaped at Ron, while Draco narrowed his eyes. Ron wasn't sure if he should apologize or run. It seemed he was the only one unable to make witty remarks poking fun at the former Slytherin. But he stood his ground.

Suddenly Draco laughed out loud, causing Mirabelle and Hermione to relax. "How long have you been holding on to that one?" he asked Ron.

"Um," Ron shrugged. "I just thought of it."

"Well, it's about time you spoke your mind around me. I can't imagine what it's like walking on eggshells all the time."

The host at the small banquet hall called for Harry and Draco to come to the head table to cut their cake, diverting Draco's attention before Ron could say anything more.

After he left, Ron turned to Hermione. "What did he mean by that?"

"I think he meant he's glad you're finally treating him like everyone else, instead of like a poisonous snake. You always seem to be bending over backward to make sure you don't insult him or ruffle his feathers."

"Snakes don't have feathers," Ron deadpanned.

"So I mixed up my metaphors. You know what I mean."

"I thought you and Harry wanted me to be nice to him. Isn't that what you've been telling me ever since they got back together?" Ron was confused.

"Nice, yes. But you have been overly formal and polite. To the point of being generic. I was afraid you'd never be able to get past your . . . past. I thought civil awkwardness was the best you two would manage."

Ron glanced up to see Harry and Draco, with both of their hands on an ornate cake server, cut into a chocolate filled confection while the guests clapped. Harry held up a small piece for Draco to taste.

"I don't know if he and I will ever be friends the way you've become, Mione. But I'm trying for Harry's sake."

Draco grinned and picked up another piece and held it up to Harry. Then he smashed it all over Harry's face, covering him in vanilla frosting and chocolate crumbs. Harry quickly picked up another piece and did the same to Draco while he was busy laughing. Draco reached for another piece.

"Uh, oh, I'd better go break that up," Ron said and began making his way to the table.

Hermione grabbed his arm. "Ron, they're just having fun."

"I know. But at this rate, there won't be any cake left for the rest of us," he joked.

To Ron's relief, there was plenty of cake left, even after Harry and Draco smeared about a third of it all over one another. While the guests ate dessert, the happy couple left the party to begin their honeymoon. The first stop would be Paris, where Draco swore he would _not_ check in on Mirabelle and the shop at any point. The second destination was a place neither of them had ever been, The Maldives. A small thatched cottage sitting on the turquoise water awaited them in a few days time.

But first, a quick floo trip to 12 Grimmauld Place to freshen up and grab their bags.

The second they stepped through the fireplace, Draco pounced on Harry, knocking him to the floor.

"It was all I could do not to lick you clean at the reception," he said, between kisses and licks. His fingers nimbly rid Harry of his wedding clothes.

"I think we could use a shower," Harry breathed back. He remembered purposefully sticking his cake covered hand down Draco's shirt to ensure the need. They could have _Scourgified_ but why pass up the opportunity?

Draco followed Harry up the stairs, stripping as he went and watching the subtle sway of Harry's naked hips. By the time they reached the bath, Draco was steel hard and weeping. Harry wasted no time starting the shower and lathering up to clean, washing off his face first, then moving on to other important areas. He took a flannel and gently wiped the cake and frosting from Draco's face. His hand trailed down to the chocolate mess on his chest. And finally, he dropped the flannel to stroke his new husband.

"Don't," Draco chuckled and pushed Harry's hand away. "Or this is going to be the fastest consummation in history."

Instead, he lowered himself to his knees and took Harry into his mouth. Harry leaned his head back, under the spray of water and moaned at the feeling.

Careful not to suck too hard, Draco wanted only to give Harry pleasure, not make him cum. He intended for them to climax together for their first time as husbands.

"Draco."

He paused and looked up at Harry.

"Take me now."

Not having to be told twice, Draco rose to his feet and reversed their positions, directing Harry to the back of the shower. He lifted him slightly to a shallow shelf-like projection on the back wall. It wasn't deep enough for Harry to stay on by himself, so Draco pinned him into position with his shoulders under Harry's arms. He whispered a wandless lubricating spell he had learned during the past year and entered Harry swiftly.

Both men groaned. Now that they were engaged, Draco let his hands do the carrying while Harry wrapped his legs around his lover. Harry tended to his own cock as Draco continued to pump his hips. They kissed leisurely as they fell into a rhythm with one another. Harry couldn't guess how long they had been at it, but he was getting close.

"I'm almost there, love," he said in Draco's ear.

"Ready whenever you are," Draco replied. He'd been backing off a bit to stay his orgasm until Harry was on the verge.

"All right. I'm ready."

Draco's movements sped up, bringing him to the edge nearly instantly.

"Harry, I'm- ohhhh." Draco's climax hit him faster than he expected, but Harry was quick to follow, spewing between them.

They moaned out their orgasms until the last drop from each was expelled. Draco rested his forehead on Harry's shoulder as he slid out of Harry and lowered him to stand on the shower floor.

"I love you so much," Draco whispered.

Harry smiled. "I love you too."

He remembered a time when he would have given anything to hear those words from his lover. A time when Draco was reluctant to open up completely. He made a promise to himself never to take those words for granted, now that he heard them on a regular basis.

He supposed Draco had been right the night Harry snuck into his flat to break things off. They had _both_ been broken, each in their own way. And they managed to fix one another.

Sometimes you get what you want, _and_ what you need.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

The End

* * *

**Another super-corny ending . . . *shrugs* what can I say?**

**For anyone interested in the inspiration for the beginning of this chapter, check out this link-**

**h t t p** : / / f a v. me / d50x1v2 **on DeviantArt (take out spaces)**

**It's adorable. And while you're at it, check out her other work. She has some great Drarry!**

**I wasn't planning on doing an epilogue, but you never know. If the inspiration hits me . . .**

**Love to all!**

**Reverie**


	16. New Story Alert

***Hello to the best fans ever! Just wanted to let you know that I have begun posting a new Drarry. It's called Potions Professor Pursuit and you should be able to see it on my profile soon. Thanks for all of your past support!**

**Reverie**


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